


Stolen kisses and Spilt Ink

by sakura_kiss



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety meets lonely, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Feminine Draco, Goes through their ages, Harry is a jealous type, Jealousy, Kinda rude harry, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Possessive Behavior, Slow Build, Slow Burn, The war never happened, They're not enemies but they're not friends, Top Harry Potter, Underaged drinking and smoking, kinda friends to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:14:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23744374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakura_kiss/pseuds/sakura_kiss
Summary: On his 11th birthday, like most little boys before him, Draco received his invitation to Hogwarts academy for promising young wizards and witches. It was inevitable, after all. His family was entirely made up of purebloods and distinguished donors to the school for many centuries.Or--- An alternate Harry Potter were Draco's not so bitchy, Harry is a mean flirt, and they're both too blind to see that they love each other.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 96
Kudos: 749





	1. Chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! So this is my reimagining of Harry Potter characters and how I would write them. The characters aren't really like the ones in the books or movies. I'm not sure if this is going to be a multichaptered fic but I would love for it to be! It really depends on the outcome of this one! Anyways please comment and enjoy :)

On his 11th birthday, like most little boys before him, Draco received his invitation to Hogwarts academy for promising young wizards and witches. It was inevitable, after all. His family was entirely made up of purebloods and distinguished donors to the school for many centuries. His father had gone to the school, his father's father, his father's father's father and so on. It was no surprise then, really, when the little white envelope came fluttering through his window and landing directly on his bed, all wrapped up in a pretty red wax seal. Lucius, his father, grand patriarchy of the Malfoys, had been beyond proud of his child. Beyond his tough exterior and marble stone features, was a warm man and a warmer father. He scooped Draco up off his feet in an embrace, cooing into his ear of how proud he was and how Draco would honor them all, how he would bring pride to the Malfoy name. The thought of his father being proud of him had pulsed jolts of satisfaction up Draco's little body, and his smile widened as wide as it could. His mother, Narcissa, although proud, had lamented greatly that her little fleur would not be attending the distinguished Beauxbaton school in France, the one she had attended in her girlhood. (Draco would never admit it, but he had secretly wished for his enrollment there. He adored the light blue uniform and the beautiful aesthetics of Paris. It was magical, after all. The city of love! It reminded Draco of all the stories his mother had told him, recanting her time in Paris with such passion and a twinkle in her eye.) Narcissa was proud nevertheless. 

The morning before the first day of school was one that Draco would remember for the rest of his life. They were going to the market, Diagon Alley, to pick up supplies for school. Lucius had called ahead in order to assure Draco would get first pick of all the scrolls and quills as well as texts necessary. He even assured that Draco received duplicates, in case he lost one. Nothing was too good for his Draco, Lucius assured as he allowed Narcissa to fuss over the boy. As all Malfoys were expected to be, Draco was pampered and plush, his hair soft and flowing down his face. Soft blush was placed on doll-like cheeks and robes were freshly pressed and hung up. Narcissa insisted on tying a ribbon around Draco's neck, but Lucius refused, insisting that Draco's first impression should be as proper as possible, in order to ensure that the Malfoy name was protected. Lucius watched as Draco's face crumpled, baby soft lips curving inwards but not uttering a peep.

The man was well aware of his son's affinity for sweet things: dolls and rouge on his cheeks, ribbons and lace. He knew this and it was fine, Draco will not be the patriarchy that Lucius was, perhaps he never will be. That was all fine. At first, disappointment had rattled through him as he watched his child on the floor, as he used to play with conjured up dolls, his mother's porcelain poppets. Lucius had imagined Draco to be like him, walking in his footsteps. But that dream was quickly shattered. His son, sweet and naive, was shy. He was easily frustrated and all too gullible. He was coddled, he was too...soft. So the minute Draco turned 10, one year before his admittance to Hogwarts, Lucius banned Narcissa from dressing Draco in anything too feminine, just so that he was not made to be a weak opponent. Draco may not strike fear in the hearts of others, but at least he will be a proper gentleman. If Narcissa had her way, the boy would be dressed in a new frock everyday, wrapped in satin and lace and wearing a face full of makeup. Lucius suspected that Draco perhaps wouldn't mind that necessarily, and perhaps if they were in a different situation, he would have let him. It's not the middle ages anymore, Lucius reminds himself. Children wish to explore themselves and Lucius never would want to be the type of father his only son resented. 

After a swipe of chapstick on his lips and a small dose of perfume Narcissa had sneaked onto her child, Lucius and Draco were off through the Floo.

"Daddy..."

"Yes my little doe," Lucius responded tursely, fixing his cufflinks as they reached their landing point. Diagon Alley was all aflutter with other children and their parents, all picking up the newest books and supplies, cauldrons and robes, and in Draco's case, reserved goods. They passed by Ollivander's, not needing to visit the wand-maker. Draco had inherited his grandfather's wand, 10" Hawthorn wood, unicorn hair. A rather plain wand, Draco whined as he received the magical item, but his father was quick to remind him that unicorns were some of the rarest creatures of all, that their hair was as fine and silver as Draco's. He was quick to remind Draco that being a Malfoy meant being rare and elusive, being above them all. For an 11 year old, Draco didn't exactly understand what his father meant, but knew he didn't want to disappoint. 

"Daddy, these robes are itchy." Draco wriggled in his garments as they reached the animal store, as a pet was necessary for any aspiring wizard or witch. There were many fine choices and Draco's snowy blue eyes sparkled at all of them as he ran his fingers across soft furs and feathers. 

"Don't wriggle, and for goodness sake Draco, please just pick one." Lucius was never a patient man. 

"But it has to be the right one, daddy," Draco muttered, his eyes never leaving the animals. He finally came across a beautiful Blue Russian cat, a sparkling gray coat and brilliant green blue eyes, Draco whipped around to his father behind him, attempting to put on the best "Please, Daddy~" eyes he could. 

Lucius was no match. 

"Yes Draco, let's go now, we shall get you the cat. Now let's hurry along, we have other things to get." Lucius was already one foot ahead, aiming for the cashier. 

Draco smiled gleefully as he reached out to rub the chin of the cat staring back at him. Apprehensive, she pulled back from his touch, careful eyes staring back at him. Draco began to pull his hand back, not wishing to upset her. "I suppose you're a fickle little thing, hm?" Draco asked softly as she licked her paw, only stopping to "mrr" cautiously as Draco attempted his luck again, this time, stopping to let her sniff his hand. 

The cat's elegant neck scooped down to sniff lightly, and finally, she nudged her head against Draco's hand, eyes closing in content as Draco excitedly began to scratch. 

"Come on Draco! We must go!" Lucius called ahead, already moving out of the store.

"Coming!" Draco smiled, picking up the crate and moving to the exit. "Don't worry, I won't keep you in here for too long! I promise! You'll live like royalty….what should I even name you? You look like royalty…" Draco knew that his new pet would not be able to understand him, but he suspected that she didn't necessarily mind his chatter as she laid down on the floor of her crate and closed her eyes. "Perhaps I should name you after the Queen? She's rather stylish. Elizabeth? Mmm...that's rather formal. Perhaps that'll be your full name. I could call you Lizzie for short!" 

The cat, now deemed Elizabeth (Lizzie for short) simply meowed softly, rolling over to her side and letting out a rather large yawn. Draco only smiled in return.  
\---  
Flourish and Blotts booksellers was the only place to find Hogwarts' extensive reading list. Therefore, Lucius made sure to call them the minute they opened to reserve fresh copies. The pair strode into the shop and all eyes fell onto them. The attention on him made Draco's cheeks curl pinker than the blush his mother brushed onto him. Draco reveled in it slightly; he knew he was probably the prettiest thing most people have seen, thanks to his mother and father. Draco wasn't unfamiliar with the compliments people would give him, the pinching of his cheeks or the cooing and petting. He also noticed the look men would give him. Draco liked those the most. He didn't exactly know why, nor what it meant, but he had always noticed that he gained the attention of men and he knew that it made his stomach flutter and he wanted more of it. (As Draco grows older, he'll come to be repulsed by those gazes, making his skin crawl and stomach churn.) 

Draco glanced over his shoulder and noticed a boy staring back at him, brown wild hair and big green eyes. Glasses that sat awkwardly on his face and baggy clothes that don't exactly fit on his scrawny body. But he was cute. Draco could admit that. The boy was cute with the way he stared back at Draco, his floppy hair covering his eyes and the way he brushed it back to gaze longer at Draco. Draco's eyes scanned the boy, much like Lucius does when appraising a piece of art for the foyer or examining the outfits Narcissa dressed Draco in for their nightly dinners. As Draco waited by Lucius' side, his father chatting with the cashier who, upon seeing Lord Malfoy and his son, scurried to the back to get his things. 

Draco noticed another boy next to the first, straight ginger hair and a splattering of freckles that made him look like a piece of paper that had ink spilled on it. They stared back at Draco with curious eyes, the ginger turning to the brunette and whispering things in his ear, then glancing back at Draco. This annoyed Draco slightly, knowing that they're probably talking about him. 

"That unsightly little miscreant is Ronald Weasley," Lucius tutted. "His father and I worked together at the Ministry of Magic. The entire family is a mismatched group." Lucius gripped the books from the counter and turned around in order to leave with his son. 

"And who's the one next to him?" Draco asked softly, noticing that the boy, the one to the now known Ronald Weasley, was still staring at him. It made Draco blush and not in the way he usually did when people stared. This blush made Draco hot in the cheeks and his entire body rejected the very idea of him. Draco had half the mind to stick out his tongue at the boy who was aggressively peering at him.

Lucius glanced back over, only to do what could be considered a "double take". "By Merlin's Beard.. that's...that's Harry Potter!" 

Draco has heard of the illustrious Harry Potter, in passing conversations while sitting in his father's lap as he discussed with colleagues or when his mother read the daily gossip columns in the papers. Harry Potter, the boy that survived Lord Voldemort's hex and, at the ripe age of 1 year old. His parents, Lily and James Potter, had protected their child and killed the once Dark Lord, only to die in the process. Their likenesses were carved in marble, statues were erected in the middle of Hogsmeade. They were deemed heroes of the Wizarding World. They were legends, visionaries, gods.. and yet, here their child was. An orphan in ill fitting clothes and broken glasses. 

Draco glanced over to his father, who had apparently caught the attention of a certain Arthur Weasley and was currently discussing (in the most indifferent way possible) some things that Draco usually droned out due to lack of interest himself. Therefore, Draco was by himself. He had decided to become better acquainted with "The Boy Who Lived" and see what all the fuss was about after all. With his head up high, and with all the grace and poise of a Malfoy heir, Draco held out his hand to Harry. 

"Draconius Lucien Malfoy, but you can call me Draco." His smile was dazzling, Draco was sure and his hand was stretched out all inviting. He was certain that Harry would fall in love with him just as everyone else would, just like all other boys and men did. 

"Hey! Don't ignore me!" Ron fumed, angrily trying to pull Harry away, but Harry was firmly rooted in place. "Come on Harry, you don't wanna deal with this brat. My dad tells me he's a real pain in the neck." 

"I don't remember asking you!" Draco snapped back, "Besides, my father tells me that you and your family are full of dingy little mongrels!" His little foot stomped down, milky white skin turning pink with frustration. He had wanted to make a good impression, but now it was all ruined at the hands of a ginger twat. 

Suddenly, the two stopped bickering when they heard Harry began to chuckle. "What is so funny??" Draco hissed, turning on his heel to face the boy who's, now that Draco is up close and could notice, scar was just as red and deep as Draco was told. 

"Sorry sorry, you just.." Harry began to calm down, giggles subsiding. "You just remind me of my Aunt Petunia's grumpy old cat. A real feral little thing." 

"Excuse me??" Draco's eyes narrowed, "Did you just compare me to a...a…" 

"Darling, let's go now, your mother will be fuming if we're not in time for supper," Lucius calls out, already at the door. Mr. Weasley came up behind Ronald, putting two broad hands on his shoulders. "Hello Draco," he said as nicely as possible, obviously pissed off from a rather lively conversation with Draco's father. 

Draco swallowed his anger and held his tongue as he bowed his head down a little. "Hello Mr. Weasley, I must go now." Draco turned on his heel and scurried to his father at the entrance, holding Draco's books in one hand and the newly dubbed "Elizabeth" in the other. Before he could fully step on foot out the door, he could hear Ron and Harry chatting.

"A daddy's boy too huh?" Was the last thing Draco heard before his father apparated them away.  
\---  
It wasn't a surprise when Draco was sorted into Slytherin. Historically, his family had always been Slytherin. His godfather, after all, was a Slytherin headmaster. Draco had always been fond of his Uncle Snape. Like his father, Severus Snape has always been a solemn man of little words. He showed his affection through actions instead of words. So upon greeting Draco during his arrival, he gave the boy a quick hug and tossel of his hair, then disappeared once more to attend to teaching duties. 

Draco made himself quite comfortable in his new room, a double made single specifically for him. He knew it was extravagant and lavish, but his father insisted that he be given his own accommodations. After all, Draco's never needed to share a room before, he might get overwhelmed. He knew that this would probably irritate his fellow Slytherin students who were forced to share rooms of two or more, but then again, he was a Malfoy and Malfoys deserved the best. Elizabeth was perched on Draco's bed, covered with a fine down duvet and satin blanket. She had been given a gold locket collar, and even Draco could say that was beyond extravagant. But like himself, his cat seemed to enjoy the finer things in life and absolutely refused to wear anything else. 

Draco could see himself being comfortable in Hogwarts. It wasn't Beauxbaton, but it was charming and beautiful in it's own old and antique way. The paintings on the walls all tittered upon seeing him and the ghosts that lurked in the halls all bowed their heads, old italian men who wished to kiss his hands and call him "Bella". It was definitely a boost to his ego, knowing that he was gracing the Halls of Hogwarts with his beauty. His mood was high, his head swollen with compliments. That was until he heard…

"Oh look, the princess is here." 

Draco swiftly turned himself around, seeing none other than Weasley and Potter and a new homely little girl with frizzy hair. She looked studious, with her books in her hands and a quill tucked behind her ear. She was quite pretty and Draco could imagine him becoming friends with her more than the other two. Unsurprisingly, Ronald and Harry had ended up being placed in Gryffindor as well as the other girl (who he would later learn is Hermione Granger, greatest witch of her time), but Draco felt that she would be better suited in Ravenclaw. 

As the trio came closer, Draco rolled his eyes, but tried his best to be cordial, something his father insisted he do no matter who it was he was addressing. "Weasley, Potter…" he nodded towards them, suddenly standing up straighter, legs together, fists curled in his sleeves. 

"Rumor is that the Princess of Slytherin got her very own room, bought that with daddy's money, Malfoy?" Ronald scoffed in passing, only to be slapped in the arm by the girl next to him. Draco has officially decided that she was his favorite. 

"Well, Ronald, since I could actually AFFORD my own room here, I suppose a rumor would spread like that. Unlike you and your pack of mutts." Draco huffed, nose turned up. Ron turned as red as his hair, blabbering on about how he wanted to hex the living daylights out of Draco, but all Draco could notice was that Harry was once again just staring. 

"What? Do I have something on my face?" Draco snapped at him and Harry simply adjusted his glasses and tilted his head. 

"No no, not at all. In fact I rather think you'd take plenty of time in the mirror to ensure that you're absolutely spotless, huh?" Harry had a half smile on his face and Draco felt like half laughing. 

It wasn't exactly an insult. But it wasn't exactly a compliment. Draco wasn't sure how to react. He's used to being fawned over and adored, but he was also used to boys like Ron who made fun of him for his "more than self-care" aesthetics. So when a boy like Harry gives him a half compliment half insult, Draco can't help but just turn bright red and stomp off. 

Draco stomped his way back to his room, flinging his door open and shutting it closed with a loud clamber that alarmed Lizzie, who was sleeping soundly on his bed. Draco practically threw himself onto it as well, whining into his silk pillows. Who do they think they are?! How could they be so rude to someone they don't even know?? Draco's ears burned from how red his blush was, flustered and warm. He decided from there on that he hated Ronald Weasley, he hated Gryffindors and he hated the boy who made him feel silly, childish and bratty. He hated Harry Potter!


	2. Chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lonliness? Draco knows of it plenty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have decided to continue this story because it seems that a lot of people really liked the first chapter! I hope this one doesn't disappoint! Please comment :) thank you!

One would think, in a school as large and grand as Hogwarts, you'd be able to go your entire school career without seeing the same person twice. Draco didn't know if there was some cosmic force against him, or if he had really pissed off some celestial goddess. But for four years, Draco has nothing but terrible, shitty luck. Everywhere he turned, the ragtag trio were surely around the corner. Draco was sure to always put on his usual "devil-may-care" attitude and hurl light insults. He bickered with Ron, like an Irish Setter barking at a particularly stubborn tabby. Hermione was usually giggling and trying to hide her amusement as Ron failed to outwit Draco's sparkling vernacular. Harry, meanwhile… Draco still cannot wrap his pretty little head around the elusive Harry Potter, The Golden Boy. They often shared glances, Draco would look away first as Harry stared him down. Draco would notice that Harry stared at him often actually. Whenever Draco was nearby, all eyes were usually on him. Underclassman, upperclassmen, even some particularly suspicious professors that Draco could probably flirt with to get a good grade in his class. But Harry was the only one that truly got under his skin. 

It was Draco's 15th birthday and his mother and father were stuck in Germany, unable to come celebrate their only son's birth. The morning of his birthday Draco's heart felt heavy. He had received a message the night before. Lizzie had toted it in her mouth, dropping it in the lap of the blonde. Lucius and Narcissa sent their deepest apologies, their sweetest words and their most sincere promises for next year. Draco had always spent his birthday with his family, in their lovely home, but Draco supposed he was old enough now to be ok with spending one birthday alone. 

The thought made his body ache. 

In the corner, two large boxes, neatly wrapped in pretty satin bows, were brought up by a house elf. The sight of the elf was a bit conflicting for Draco, who had grown up in the care of many house elves, but after hanging around Hermione for long enough (not intentionally, but she was the most tolerable of the three), Draco's opinions on House Elf Labor Rights had made him feel slightly guilty. He thanked the elf profusely, bringing the blankets slightly closer to himself in an attempt to cover his silky nightie, one of the few pleasures he granted himself in exchange for itchy school robes. Once the elf had left with a small nod and a smile, Draco crawled out of the bed. He dragged the two boxes to his bed, flopping back down and reaching over to his nightstand to get his wand. With a flick of his hand, the two boxes opened and showed the things inside. One gift was from his mother, a pretty new dress she had found in the streets of Milan, one that she promised would look gorgeous on Draco's lithe form. A smile as bright as the glow of his wand grew on Draco's lips as he clutched the material in his hands. It was a beautiful velvet forest green, soft and plush to the touch. Open backed and spaghetti strapped, it would look lovely with a pair of black heels. Draco whipped out his wand and the dress was apparated into his closet. The next box was from Lucius and was smaller than the one from his mother. A little note was inside from Draco's father "To his darling child". Inside, a beautiful gold locket engraved with a rose and snake on the outside and Draco's initials on the back. It was dainty and fragile and Draco immediately slipped it around his neck. The cold metal clinked as he closed the clasp and small fingers played with it gleefully. It was gorgeous, surely antique. It would be easy to hide under his robes, Draco assured himself. Clutching it tightly brought a pang of sadness to Draco's heart, remembering that he would be celebrating his birthday alone.

Although Draco was rather popular in Hogwarts, he can't help but feel he's not very well liked. The so-called "Princess of Slytherin" had been deemed his nickname by a certain redheaded cad. Sure, Draco had his handful of admirers and followers, but he wasn't sure they qualified as "friends" the way that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were "friends". At 15 years old, Draco has definitely grown out of his sweet looks into something more... mature. He's blossomed in more ways than one and Draco can't help but notice the changes in the looks he's gotten. From sweet adoration to something sinister. Draco was beginning to feel that this was a factor in his non-friendship with others. He often passed time with the older Slytherin kids in the common rooms, all 17, 18 years old and making Draco feel as if he belonged there, as if he belonged to this crowd. But once the festivities were over, once the fire died down, Draco was alone again. The thought of this made Draco very...very lonely. 

Getting dressed in his robes, Draco powdered a little blush on his cheeks and nose and spritzed himself with a small vial of perfume he had snuck from his mother's boudior. The blond made his way down to the dining hall, which was already bustling with cheerful energy as other students attempted to get their daily fill. Some kids from the Slytherin table beckoned Draco over, kind smiles and warm eyes. Draco doesn't even know if he remembers their names. The boy sat down gingerly, picking up a muffin and picking at it. He watched the scene before him from the lense of an outsider. Periodically, someone would include him in the conversation, but soon be bored of his answer and move onto the next topic. Draco didn't mind, he was used to such conversation. As most people know, Slytherin students were mostly the sons and daughters of politicians, actors and actresses, and other high officials. They were all poised and cunning and snooty and rich. Future entrepreneurs, politicians, doctors and professors. Draco, perhaps to them, was just a pretty little air-headed heir. They were curt and perhaps even slightly rude, but Draco grew to not mind. After all, these were his...friends? Companions? Even if they didn't remember his birthday. 

Draco turned his head slightly to the Gryffindor table. It was loud and rowdy and improper and yet Draco couldn't help but feel drawn to it slightly. The Trio was seated promptly there, Hermione's nose in a book and Ron and Harry messing around. Draco couldn't help but feel a little jealous of the skinship between everyone in Gryffindor. They all seemed so chummy and comfortable with each other and Draco has never really known friendship like that. 

Harry's eyes skipped over to Draco's. It made both boys freeze slightly. Draco didn't exactly know what they were. They didn't exactly talk to each other, but they weren't very rude to each other either. Sometimes they'd exchange short quips before being pulled away by their respective parties. Draco had noticed that Harry wasn't like the boy he was the first time they'd met. He'd rather filled into his clothes, becoming stronger and more built (perhaps it was all the quidditch). As much as Draco enjoyed the boys in Slytherin, he finds himself having a preference of the boyishly charming Gryffindor men who look as though they're dumber than hammers but good Lord could they probably lift Draco up like a feather. Harry's lips slightly curled at the corners and Draco's powder blush wasn't very necessary now was it? His cheeks were already turning cherry red. 

"Draco, come now. The boys are gonna go hang out in the courtyard before classes," Pansy Parkinson murmured in Draco's ear, practically dragging him off. Harry's eyes followed as Draco was dragged out from the dining room.   
\---

"Can anyone tell me what you get when you mix golden holly and wormwood?" Snape's voice boomed through the room, bouncing off the walls and straight into the ears of his rather bored looking students. When he saw that no one else was answering, Draco's little pale hand shyly raised and caught the eye of his godfather. 

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" He droned, staring down at Draco with what he hoped was a look of intimidation. 

"Um.. a powerful hallucinogen?" 

Snape hesitated, Draco could see a sense of pride in his dark eyes, before turning around to face the rest of the class. "Very good, 5 points for Slytherin since it seems Mr. Malfoy was the only one who could answer." 

"That's not fair!" One boy whined from his seat. "He gets preferential treatment. Not only is he the princess of Slytherin, he's also Snape's fucking godson." He turned to his friend and attempted to lower his tone, whispering,"Snape probably gave him the answers anyway," the boy continued, "I heard that he hangs out with the older boys, the little slut." The boy wasn't expecting to find Snape looming over his head, staring straight down as if he were a shark looking at prey. Draco's cheeks were bright red and his lip was tightly pursed in order not to show his embarrassment. He felt annoyed and frustrated that people thought the only reason he could answer such a question was because he was somehow related to Severus. Just another reason for people to think he was some blond bimbo. 

"Well, since Mr. McNaulty believes my judgement to be unfair, perhaps he can now rewrite the entire text on the board for us," Snape drawled, silently upset to see his godson so wounded. The boy in question angrily stood from his seat, the wooden legs dragging and screeching across the floor as he stomped up to the board, picking up the chalk and writing. 

The minute class was over, Severus made sure Draco stayed back so that he may speak with him. It broke his heart to see the blond child hold back angry tears. "Draco-"

"It's fine, Uncle. Just some stupid idiot." Draco couldn't look his uncle in the eyes. He wouldn't. 

"You're a bright boy, Draco. Don't let others tell you di-"

"Yeah yeah, I know already. It's fine, really." The boy wiped his eyes, still attempting to be strong. The silence that was left was deafening as Snape went to his desk and pulled out a small box. He turned to face Draco, who was still trying to put on a brave face. 

"Here. For your birthday," Snape said and handed it to Draco. "I assume you heard from your parents. I'm sorry they couldn't be here today. I would stay as well, but unfortunately I have work that I must attend to or Dumbledore will have a fit." He watched as Draco unwrapped it gently, not wanting to ruin the parchment paper it was covered in. The box held a small stone, cloudy grey with spiralling and swirling sparkles inside. They looked like a storm was stuck inside the stone, dangerous and beautiful. 

"Oh...uncle it's lovely." Draco sighed, holding the stone up to the light and admiring the reflections it caused. 

"It reminded me of your eyes. I thought you'd like it." 

"I do. I really do. Thank you." Draco placed the stone in his palm as he reached out to hug the man, nuzzling his face into his neck. Snape let out a sigh and gently patted the boy's back before letting go.   
\---

Upon climbing back up to his room, Draco made sure to place his new present safely tucked away in his drawer, hidden behind a particularly strong charm that even tricked Lucius when he almost found Draco's diary. It turned the stone invisible to everyone except Draco and Draco was planning to keep it that way. It was the end of the day, the sun setting and sweeping over the lush forests surrounding Hogwarts. Draco sat on his windowsill, curled around much like Lizzie was, sleeping on his bed. He stared out of the window, watching it get darker and darker outside, dusky greys and swirling purples. Draco felt sad. He felt sad a lot of the time nowadays. It was the type of sad that you didn't cry over, it just ate away at you and kept you awake. It was the type of sadness that constantly is slipping in and out of the back of your mind, constantly reminding you at the most inconvenient times that you don't belong here, that you're alone. Draco supposed he's felt this way for a couple of years. He's tried anything to fill the gnawing hole that lets the sadness creep into the back of his mind, but nothing seems to work long enough. 

The cold of November hit the glass window, frosting up the outside. Draco's hot breath hit the glass and with every inhale, made the frost melt, only to freeze over again from the chill of the winter air. Before his eyes, Draco watched as letters began to take shape in the frost, reflected back at Draco. They seemed to appear on their own, a magical message in the ice. 

"Meet me by the West Corridor"  
-T.N. 

T.N., better known as Thomas Nott, was an 18 year old upperclassmen that Draco had met last year at a particularly rowdy celebration after Slytherin had won the Quidditch Finale. Before being swept away into the festivities, Draco noticed Harry's face, how it crumpled in frustration and threw his helmet down with vigor. A battle against Slytherin? This was Gryffindor's shining moment and in the last 10 seconds, Potter had choked. The Golden boy was suddenly decrowned and dethroned. Draco knew he should be happy for his house team winning and he was happy! He was delighted! But the sight of such a dejected Potter was slightly unnerving and suddenly, the sadness was once again creeping into the back of his mind. 

"Draco! Come on!" Pansy, always pulling Draco away. 

The party was dull and the music made Draco's entire body buzz and vibrate. Pansy was talking his ear off about...something or other. The punch was warm and the entire room was beginning to get hot, bodies writhing against each other, dancing and singing and chatting. Draco longed to be a part of it. He wanted to join them desperately. But his mind was stuck, locked onto damn Harry Potter and his sad green eyes and his pursed lips and his sweating form and chest heaving and his look… the way he looked just ..defeated. 

"Hey. Wanna get out of here?" 

Draco looked up from his punch and there he was. Thomas Nott. 17 years old, green eyes, dark hair, broad chest. Draco smiled and nodded.

"Yeah."

So here Draco was, one year later and Draco finds himself seeking Thomas out when he's at his lowest, when the sadness is creeping up his throat and threatens to spill ink in his brain. Draco wrapped himself up in a wool sweater and parka, creeping outside the best he can. Thomas was already outside, standing cooly against the stone corridor wall. 

"Hey, sorry I had to get dre-" Draco couldn't even finish his thought before Thomas was pulling him in by the waist, chapped lips on Draco's neck and jaw and cheeks and lips. They were harsh, fast and teeth clanking against each other. Thomas's harsh breathing and the sound of blood rushing in Draco's ears made him close his eyes as they kissed. It was typical for them to not really talk, just do. Sometimes Thomas would mutter to himself and Draco would nod along, but usually it was silent. 

"Pretty little thing aren't ya?" Thomas purred into Draco's ear. Hands rubbing Draco's waist and hips, slowly digging and dipping down and into Draco's sweater. The sudden touch of cold hands made Draco flinch back. 

"Wait, Thomas I don't really-"

"No one's around, come-on sweetheart."

Draco felt himself being pinned against the wall, hands sliding and tongue, wet and cold, shoved into his mouth. Little whines and whimpers began to peep out of his mouth. With as much strength as he could muster, Draco pushed the body off of him, deep breaths wrecking his body. Thomas staggered off. "What the fuck Draco!" 

"I wasn't ready! I'm NOT ready! I-I…"

"God you're such a fucking tease," Thomas bit back, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking back inside the school. "Fucking bitch," he muttered as well, leaving Draco once again alone. Tears finally began to spout from his eyes and Draco couldn't help but cross his arms around himself to keep from full on sobbing. He was given little reprieve when he heard the sound of clanking footsteps coming near.

"Hello?? No students are allowed out after curfew!" It was Argus Filtch, the school security guard. He was known for prowling the school grounds at night, looking for any kids, like Draco, who had disobeyed curfew. Draco cursed under his breath and began to sneak out. He had half the mind to just let himself get caught and he saw the light of Filth's lantern coming closer and closer. About a second before Draco would've been found, he was suddenly pulled to the corner corridor. Draco's eyes shut as he felt himself be pressed against a warm body, solid and broad and smelt of tea and cedar pine. Hot breath fanned against Draco's face and neck, broad hands holding tightly onto his waist. It felt as if there was a large cloth or cloak surrounding him, heavy and thick and kept the cold away. Draco kept his eyes shut, trying to ignore the cold shiver of nerves that ran down his back as he heard Filth's steps pass right by them. How did he not see them? Draco wondered. After all, they were pretty out in the open. 

"He's gone, coast is clear." The mystery man whispered hotly into Draco's ear, shivers erupting on that side of his body. Draco began to open his eyes and look up at his savior. 

Harry Potter. Of course it was.


	3. Chapter three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nice moment between Harry and Draco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment! Thank you everyone ❤️

Before Draco could let out a peep, Harry brought his finger to his lips, signalling for Draco to listen carefully for the sound of receding footsteps clacking against the cold stone floor, each one getting softer than the last. When the two boys were finally once again surrounded by nothing but dark quiet, Draco pushed away against Harry's chest, feeling the suddenly heavy material falling against him. It was opaque around the two, clearly indicating that Draco and Harry were currently surrounded by some kind of-of enchanted blanket or something. 

"How are we-"

"Invisibility cloak", Harry answered back. With one foul swoop, he pulled it off the two of them, revealing the clear night sky. The stars were brightly shining around them and the chilly air hit Draco's fragile body like a ton of bricks. He wrapped his arms around himself as he watched Harry wrap up the "invisibility cloak" and tuck it under his arm. "I got it from my father...or well...I inherited it." 

Draco shivered slightly, not really focusing on Harry's words but more the numbing of his fingertips. Harry, on the other hand, looked quite warm. He was wrapped in a large wool scarf and wearing some god awful sweater with a large monogrammed 'H' on it. Harry followed Draco's eyes and chuckled down at the sweater. "Ron's mom knitted it for me." 

"Mm.. quite the uh...seamstress," Draco mused nervously, curling white puffs of breath surrounding them as he spoke. This was perhaps the most he had talked to Harry in the last couple of years and definitely the closest he's been in proximity to him. It was awkward and Draco wasn't sure what to do or say as he watched Harry fiddle with the cloak. "Um.. thanks for... back there." 

"No worries," Harry said back quickly. "I suppose it would look bad for nasty old Filtch to catch the Slytherin princess out past curfew, snogging with an upperclassman," Harry scoffed back with a smug grin on his face, brimming with glee as Draco's cheeks turned redder than they were from the frigid air. 

"That's none of your business anyways!" Draco snapped, embarrassed and flustered from head-to-toe. He hadn't realized that Harry was just around the corner when him and Tom were...together. The idea that Harry had witnessed Tom creeping his hand into Draco's shirt had made Draco so terribly ashamed, he really couldn't look Harry in the eyes. But, with all the grace a Malfoy heir can muster, Draco's focus was aimed back at Harry and he sneered, "Well what about you?? What would people think knowing that Hogwarts' Golden Boy is creeping around the school at ungodly hours?" 

Harry seemed to silence at that remark and Draco felt personally vindicated. He wanted to pat himself on the back for such a clever reply. Harry sighed, crossing his arms and taking in Draco's shaking body. He was only wearing a thin sweater, probably an attempt to make himself more appealing to Tom. Draco squirmed under Harry's gaze and in the dark, inky night, Draco could clearly make out his forest green eyes. Finally, Harry nudged his head to the side. "Come on, let's go inside before your Royal Arse freezes off." He pushes off of the wall that he was leaning against. Harry began to walk back inside without another word. Draco froze in place as he watched Harry walking cooly into the school, his wand drawn and glowing dimly at the tip to provide little lighted guidance. When Harry realized Draco wasn't following behind him, he turned his head back, "Are you coming or what?" 

Draco's feet seemed to move by themselves as he trotted along behind Harry. He didn't exactly know where the brunette was taking him and he wasn't sure why he was following him anyways. The castle was eerily quiet in a way that Draco wasn't particularly fond of. The floors creaked and walls dripped and the whispers of ghosts and paintings buzzed in Draco's ears. It was a little unnerving, Draco could admit. Slytherin common room was in the dungeons of Hogwarts, so one would think he was used to the gloomy and morose surroundings, but if it were up to Draco he'd fashion it exactly the way his powder room looked back at home. It would definitely clash with the typical "down and dour slytherin" stereotype. 

Harry glanced back to the blonde that was lagging behind him and with a roll of his eyes and soft smirk, Harry tutted. "You can hold on to the back of my coat if you're scared~" 

"I'm not scared!" Draco chirped back. "I'm...I'm just cautious, ok? I don't want to get caught!" Draco huffed "Besides, where are you even taking me??" Draco was abruptly interrupted when he bumped into Harry's back with a little 'oof'. Harry had come to a halting stop in front of a particular portrait of a rather rotund lady, dozing off against a Corinthian column and dressed lavishly in a Greek toga. The light of Harry's wand made her groan and blink awake. 

"Wh-what is that? What's going on?" She said with an annoyed growl. Her body rising from sleep and her curled hair falling messily around her. 

"Let us in, Quid Agis." Harry murmured in a hushed tone, his wand held up steadily and Draco sort of hiding behind his broad back. 

"Wh-what? Why aren't you in bed, young man? And who's this?? He isn't a gryff-"

"He's a guest. Let him in." Harry cut her off quickly, his words becoming more frustrated and annoyed. 

"Does Minerva know about this?" The Fat Lady whispered back, her eyes shifting back and forth as if she was scared the head mistress of Gryffindor would suddenly aparate in front of them. 

"No! Just let us in!" 

"Fine, fine alright get in. But he better be gone by tomorrow morning," she huffed, her portrait swinging open to reveal the Gryffindor common room. Golds and reds plastered all over the walls, Draco felt himself swallow a little nervously as Harry ushered him inside. The room was cozy, warm from the blazing orange fire that was burning in the hearth. Charmed, Draco supposed, to burn all through the winter nights. He felt out of place, a snake in the lion's den. The snores of sleeping Gryffindors rang in his ears from upstairs and Draco awkwardly stood in the middle, watching as Harry plopped down on the couch and began undoing his scarf and coat. The lights were off and other than the glow of the fire, the entire room was dark and the moon light shone through the windows. Draco turned back to Harry and rubbed his neck nervously. 

"What am I doing here, Potter?" 

Harry turned back to face Draco, pausing to take in the moonlight reflecting off of silvery hair and pale skin. The glow of the fire was bouncing off of Harry's tanner skin, wild black hair and slight glimmers of burnt orange in his eyes that if Draco looked close enough, would turn gold. Harry shrugged and turned back to gaze into the flames. "I don't know. Thought you looked cold." 

"Yes, well...Uncle...uh...Snape will get upset if I'm not in bed, so perhaps I should just..leave." Draco began creeping slowly towards the entrance, his back against the brunette. 

"Do you ever feel like everyone wants you to be something you're not?" 

The question had Draco stop dead in his tracks. His hand, outstretched to push open the entrance, began to slowly retract and curl at his side. When he turned back to Harry, he saw how Harry wasn't facing him but gazing into the fire, deep in thought. Draco wondered if he did this often. 

"Um...I'm not sure. What do you mean?" Draco asked sheepishly. It was an awkwardly intense question to ask someone you barely talk to; to ask someone who you barely knew. They weren't friends, Draco thought. He knew that Harry and him weren't the chummiest of pals that gabbed on well into the night. So Draco found himself staring back at Harry awkwardly, stuck in place and stuck in a place he knew he shouldn't be. 

"I mean…" Harry turned to Draco. "I mean do you ever wish you were someone else. Something else?" Draco's heart tugged a little at the question, his stomach tightening and fluttering all the same. What was he supposed to say anyways? He wasn't exactly well equipped to deal with a depressed Potter at 2 am. Part of Draco wished Harry would just say he was joking, wished he would just revert back to his slightly teasing, snarky attitude. That, Draco could deal with. This? Draco had no idea what to do. He slowly walked back over to Harry, fists curled tightly. He shouldn't do this. He knows he shouldn't. What would his father say if he knew what his precious son was doing in the middle of the night? With a strange boy in a strange place..not to mention Tom as well. But against all reason, Draco sat down gingerly next to Harry. He was a well distance away from him on the couch, but Draco couldn't tell if it was the heat from the fireplace or the body heat radiating off of Harry that made his entire being burn uncomfortably warm. 

"I...I suppose so? Don't lots of people feel that way?" Draco asked, avoiding eye contact the best he could. He fidgeted slightly, hands wringing together in a way Draco knows his mother would tell him to stop. 

Harry only hummed in agreement. "Sometimes. I wish everyone didn't look at me like I was the bloody savior of the world or something," he leaned back against the couch, his arms resting around the couches back, one hand touseling his own hair in annoyance. "It's annoying, ya know? I barely know these people and they act like I'm some goddamn hero. I was one year old for God's sake!" He turned to Draco, staring him straight in the eyes, waiting for a response. For anything. 

"What, am I your therapist now, Potter?" Draco scoffed back, starting to get more comfortable and recline more into the couch cushions. Draco hadn't meant to be so rude. It just kinda spilled out, word vomited. It was a sensitive topic and like all Malfoys, he was uncomfortable with sensitive topics. Centuries of social training had made it so whenever something or someone was making a Malfoy uncomfortable, they'd probably be greeted with a swift insult or rude remark. Draco sometimes wishes he wasn't a Malfoy. 

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot that it was useless to talk about something like this with the Slytherin Princess. You must love your posh, puff little life. Absolutely adore the staring and the compliments," Harry sneered back, obviously pissed off that Draco had decided to respond to his comments with sarcasm. 

"Oh yeah, it's great! I definitely love being considered some blond bimbo, training to be some pureblood's stepford housewife or something." Draco rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in front of his chest, huffing haughtily in a way that only made Harry slightly smirk and chuckle. It was amusing for him obviously to see Draco so unnecessarily wound up and tight. He had been like this since they met that one fateful day in the bookstore. 

"Well, at least you admitted it!" Harry teased back, absolutely enjoying the way Draco's scrunched up in unamusement. The blond recoiled slightly, attempting to keep himself calm. His parents did always say he had a little bit of a temper when it came to arguing, but Draco didn't want to argue right now. It didn't feel like all of those other times in the hallways or in class, it wasn't someone making a rude comment about Draco's lineage or his intelligence, not insinuating anything. Harry wasn't exactly insulting him. This confused Draco most of all. 

"Ya know… our parents technically hated each other." 

Draco's little bubble burst at hearing Harry's last remark. He turned to the boy next to him only to see he was already staring back. Malfoys and Potters? Yes it was definitely a century old feud between them. Death Eaters Vs. The Light. It wasn't as if Draco's parents had a choice in the matter. When Voldemort asks you to do something, you simply don't say no. It's in the past, their hands were tied. Can you truly punish the apple for coming from a rotten bunch? It's not as if his parents are bad people. They're kind and smart and funny and loving and goddammit he's tired of all these assumptions. It doesn't even matter now. Voldemort is dead. As dead as a doornail….Draco supposed he has Harry's parents to thank for that. "I guess that means we were destined to hate each other too," Draco mused with a small, sad smirk. 

"Hmm.. well cheers to that." 

Silence filled in the gaps of their conversations. Shifting eyes to one another only to look back at the fire in front of them. 

"Is that what you want?"

"What?"

"To be some pureblood's stepford wife, I mean."

Draco chuckled bitterly and sighed, his legs kicking up onto the couch and curling under his legs, much like a content cat. "Oh, I don't know. I guess not. But I suppose that'll probably happen. My parents will arrange something I'm sure." It was common for purebloods to have arranged marriages in order to secure the safety of the bloodline. Draco, being the only son of Lucius and Narcissa, was definitely going to be married off to some rich suitor one day. What happens then, Draco couldn't really tell.

"Well, you'd be a shitty wife, I'll tell you that," Harry mocked, glancing over and then back at the fire. "Too prim and proper to be one, a bit too tightly wound if you ask me." He looked back at the blond next to him, a smile growing on his face as Draco's lips also curled into a little smile

"Oh fuck off." Draco cooed, a little chuckle rumbling in his chest but not daring to escape. "And you're a pretty shitty hero!" 

"Oh, you wound me," Harry feigned pain as he clutched his heart dramatically. "What would your future spouse say if they heard that you swear like a sailor?" 

"They better get fucking used to it I guess," Draco beamed back at Harry. The two of them stared into each other's eyes. They were dancing around words that they knew they'd probably never say. The static energy in the air made their bodies buzz and Draco wanted nothing more than for it to stop. 

The heavy ringing of a clock alarmed the two. It was 3 am now and Draco knew Snape would know he was gone. He would lie, he supposed. Say he had insomnia and went down to have a snack in the elf kitchen. Snape would know Draco was lying to him, but wouldn't be able to resist his godson's sweet eyes and simply drop the matter altogether. 

"I should probably go."

"Yeah. I guess." 

Draco stood up and began walking to the exit. Before he could reach to push open the door, he paused and turned back to Harry. "This was...ok. I liked it." 

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but like that, Draco was gone.


	4. Chapter four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Harry have a nice Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment :)

A Saturday trip to Hogsmeade was exciting for any young wizard or witch. It was the only time students at Hogwarts were able to relax outside the walls of their precious school and actually be kids for once. Draco had put on his best sweater and baby blue parka, the one his mother got him from London during her last trip there. With a loud jingling from his pocket of a purse full of galleons, Draco practically skipped towards the main courtyard, where he would find Blaise and Pansy waiting for him already. 

"Well~ how do I look~?" Draco teased, spinning around, his fur parka spanning out slightly as he twirled and the two pom-poms that dangled down in the front bobbed up and down. His smile was large, pretty blonde hair and pale skin clashing against the ice and chilly winter air. Rosy cheeks warmed up otherwise milky skin and beautiful grey eyes matched the greying sky. It was safe to say Draco looked as if he were a cherub and the rumor of him inheriting Veela blood was often thrown about the school. Draco wasn't sure if there were any Veelas in his family, but he wouldn't doubt it. He should ask his mother next time he visits, perhaps he could finally put these rumors to rest. ("No Veela blood in me, I'm just that beautiful~")

"Like an absolute snow siren, now come on, I want to see the new brooms on sale!" Pansy said, interlocking her arm with Draco's and practically dragging him away. Laughing behind them was Blaise, who looked on with a fond smile. If Draco were to have to list two people that he could consider friends, he supposed it would have to be Pansy and Blaise. The two had been the first to walk up and actually have a conversation with Draco, other than the obvious "your parents are former Deatheaters?" conversation. The trio skipped off towards Hogsmeade, Pansy chatting their ears off the entire way and Blaise having to make sure she doesn't get too riled up. Draco's eyes would sometimes glance over to spot them looking at each other in a funny way and Draco knows exactly what those looks mean. He has often read about them in the tawdry and scandalous romance novels his mother keeps in her bedside drawer. Draco can't exactly deny that seeing the pictures of scantily-clad and beautiful men from a young age weren't a factor in his sexuality. He's happy for them, in a corny and sweet way. 

Hogsmeade was bustling with Hogwarts students, running around and laughing. It was happy, a pretty Christmas picture of smiling children playing in the snow and looking at the shining trinkets in store windows. Blaise handed the two a cup of steamy warm pumpkin juice and the three of them began to walk around the center of town. McGonagall was keeping a watchful eye as usual, making sure the children didn't get into any precarious trouble, but even her attitude was lightened by the Christmas scene. As Pansy and Blaise chatted, Draco's attentions were everywhere, eyes darting from one store to the next. He was excited for this little shopping excursion. His parents had sent him a monthly allowance and the money was burning in his pockets. Draco spotted his godfather in the corner, unamused as always but just as attentive as his colleagues. Severus had always detested chaperoning school trips such as this, but as the Slytherin headmaster, it was required of him to be present on such occasions. Draco told Blaise and Pansy to go off without him, only to talk to his godfather for a minute, and that he would reunite with them soon. The two understood and with minimal whining, they pranced off to the next attraction that Hogsmeade had to offer. 

The blonde child began walking towards Severus, making sure his godfather didn't see him as he saddled up besides him on the wall he was leaning against. The sudden addition made Severus peer over sharply, as if to scold a student, only to relax his glare when he realized it was his beloved godchild. 

"Found any thugs and miscreants, Uncle?" Draco mused, smug little smile on his lips that made Severus roll his eyes fondly. 

"Only the one next to me," he mused back, shooting a teasing glance at Draco and turning back when he heard the little joking gasp. 

"Well, I suppose I'll just have to tell my father about this, hm?" Draco pouted, huffing in an endearingly irritating way that simply made Severus chuckle under his breath. 

"Oh please, as if Lucius ever could win against me in a wand duel." Severus looked out in front of him, watching as the hoards of children around them frolicked in the snow. A few seconds passed between the two before Severus spoke again. "How are you anyways," he asked gruffly, not sparing a glance down at Draco. Although family, it was better for them not to share too much affection during the school day. It wasn't as if Severus was never accused of casual nepotism. 

"Oh quite fine, Uncle. Blaise and Pansy are waiting for me," Draco crossed his arms and looked towards his two friends in the distance, "I suppose I should be getting back to them." Before he could push off the wall, Severus grabbed his arm. Draco's head whipped back and his eyes darted up at his godfather's face. 

"Draco, I know you snuck out from the dorms the other night… if you'd like to talk you can always come to my chambers-"

Draco's rosy cheeks turned bright red as he pulled his arm away in a perhaps too violent nature. "I'm fine, Uncle! I promise! Nothing to discuss!" 

"Draco-"

"I'll come visit you sometime! We'll have tea and sweets, perhaps!" Draco spoke back as he stomped to his friends, attempting to ignore the heat in his belly as he remembered that one night in the Gryffindor common room. That one night with Harry Potter. By the time he met back up with Blaise and Pansy, the two of them were too distracted to notice his ever-growing red cheeks.

"Oh look, what a darling little hairpin!" Pansy cooed, bringing the two closer to the window where a silver hair clip was sitting on a crushed velvet red pillow. It was dainty and fragile looking, simple silver intertwined with little moonstones, shining and twinkling. "How much do you think it is?" She sighed, rummaging through her coin purse. 

"Way too expensive," Blaise murmurs, nodding his head to the price tag next to it. The amount of zeros made their heads spin a little. "It's worth enough to buy a small island, I imagine." 

"I have expensive tastes, what can I say?~" she smiled widely, all teeth. Draco couldn't help but feel that he and Pansy are quite similar. 

As the two chattered on about the hair pin, Draco turned towards his right and saw Potter and his ragtag duo. They were entering the pub, no doubt for a bubbly and creamy butterbeer. Harry noticed Draco across the road and smiled slightly, a little wink aimed towards the blond. Draco blushed and the bright pink burned against his milky skin in a way that caught the attention of his two companions. 

"Mm, perhaps instead of this clip, we should buy you a little vial of Amortentia. I bet it would smell exactly like Potter's cologne." Pansy teased, earning a snicker from Blaise and a little shove. Draco scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"As if! Don't even joke about it, Pansy!" Draco stomped off towards Honeydukes candy store. The other two trailed off next to him, hurrying to keep up with the now embarrassed Draco. 

"He's right, Pans. He doesn't need any Amortentia~ don't you see how Potter is absolutely obsessed over him already?" Blaise cooed, pinching Draco's pink cheek teasingly. Draco huffed and pushed his hand away. "Aww, look, our little boy, all grown up and already has a stalker!" Blaise clasped his hands together and pouted. The image of a proud parent. 

"Oh yeah! Now that you mention it, it is a bit creepy how intensely he stares at you in class. Maybe he's some kind of pervert," Pansy shrugged, "Maybe he's got a fetish for pretty little blondes." 

Draco's jaw clenched as he whipped around to face the two. "Oh shut up! He's not a stalker and he's NOT a pervert!" He screeched, stomping his little foot down on the snow and making his little leather riding boots wet with snow flurry. The little tantrum made Blaise and Pansy try to push down their laughter as Draco turned back around and entered Honeydukes, the little ring of the bell alerting the staff and welcoming the three as they walked in.   
\---

Draco bought four little chocolate frogs and two honeycomb lollies, one that he currently had in his mouth that was making his lips sweet and sticky. His head turned to talk to his friends, he didn't notice that he was about to walk straight into a person as he walked through the door. Draco bounced back with a little "oof" and groaned, looking up to see Harry, Ron, and Hermione. 

"O-oh, uh…" Draco stammered slightly, taking the lollipop out from his mouth. Before he could speak again, Blaise and Pansy stepped in front of him. 

"Hi, I'm Pansy and this is Blaise, obviously you already know Draco, isn't he a doll?" Pansy smiled, glancing back at Draco who was pleading with his eyes for the two not to embarrass him. Pansy smiled and turned back to Harry. "You're Harry Potter right? I'd know you anywhere! After all, you seem to always be hanging around Draco anyways~" 

"H-hey! Wait a minute!" Ron barked, fists curling, but Harry simply smiled and side stepped the two slytherins in front of him, leaning his head over to see Draco hiding behind the human shield. His smile seemed to double as he watched Draco's haughty nose turn up at the sight of him. 

"Got an entourage, huh princess?" Harry asked, making Draco turn bloody red. He could hear Ron and Hermione snickering behind Harry and the sound of their laughter made Draco's skin crawl.

"No! They're just friends! Geez Potter, obsessed with me much? Bored with your tragic little life?" Draco sneered, his nose turned up higher and arms crossed defensively. He doesn't know why he's being so rude anyways. He doesn't want to be rude to Harry. He wants to go back to that time, feel the heat of the fireplace on his face and stare into warm hazel eyes. But of course, all was fair in love and war and right now, on the outside, Draco and Harry were supposed to be at war. He doesn't know what it was about Harry that made Draco feel…. Small. Weak… childish and embarrassed. It was an unpleasant feeling and it made Draco want to lash out. It wasn't very "Malfoy-esque" of him, and he's sure his father would disapprove of such a tantrum, but the words spewed out like oil, slippery and wet. 

"Not at all, now that I've seen your posh little face, it's quite an exciting day, don't ya think?" Harry smiled, head tilting ever so slightly to the side. Draco tsked and rolled his eyes. The way Harry was staring at him, staring THROUGH him, made Draco feel nervous. 

Hermione rolled her eyes in tandem and decided to just say, "Hello Draco, how are you doing today?" She was the polite one out of the group, the only one Draco had any inkling of respect for. She would've made a wonderful Slytherin, he thinks. 

"Oh fine, thank you Hermione. It's been a lovely day out I think, until I ran into your little mangy mutt duo." Draco huffed, crossing his arms. He glanced over at Potter who simply smiled wider. "You better keep them on a leash." He added and Hermione laughed and nodded. 

"I'll be sure to do that. Come on now guys, before all the good candy is gone." She grabbed Ron by the sleeve and forcibly dragged him away and into the store, leaving Harry with the three other Slytherin. Harry's eyes didn't leave Draco's ever-growing pink blush on his cheeks. The blonde couldn't bare looking Harry in the eyes, knowing that those deep green eyes would be staring right back at him. 

"Well, Pansy and I are just going to go and uhhhh look at somethings," Blaise said while hurriedly trying to drag Pansy away against her protests. "Make sure you return our Draco just as you'd found him, Harry~" thus, leaving the blonde and brunette alone in the exit of Honeydukes. 

Draco awkwardly looked down at his boots, avoiding any further eye contact with Harry. He attempted to look anywhere but the boy's face; his hair, his buckles, his bag, his-

"Your posse seems quite protective of you," Harry drawled, leaning against the brick wall of the shoppe. "Must be nice to be a princess," he added with a small sneer that made Draco huff and cross his arms. 

"Pansy and Blaise are my friends, thank you very much. And I'm hardly a princess! My cousin may be a duchess but that doesn't make me a princess!" Draco stopped his boot like a petulant child, ignoring Harry's obvious smirk and lazy eye roll. 

"Oh, well excuse me then~" Harry said, "I wasn't aware I was in the company of the cousin of actual royalty." Harry glanced over to his friends and Draco's group, watching as they attempted to peek at them from afar. They tittered to themselves and then pretended as if they weren't staring. Harry looked down at the blushing blonde in front of him and smirked. He leant down to Draco's ear and hotly whispered, "Can we go somewhere more… private?" 

Draco's entire body turned hot. "What??" He hissed, his fists clenching.

"Come on now, no cold feet," Harry tutted as he grabbed Draco by the arm. Suddenly, in a flash of light, the two apparatted away.   
\---

Harry and Draco landed back abruptly, making Draco fall onto his ass with a "oof". Harry extended his hand out to lift the boy up, but Draco simply growled and stood up himself, disregarding the helping hand and brushing himself off instead.   
"Where in God's name are we?" Draco huffed, looking around while trying to take twigs out from his hair and outfit. 

"The Lake." Harry responded in a cool manner, leaning up against one of the large boulders that surrounded the area. Draco finally had a chance to look at his surroundings and indeed confirm that they were back at school. The Lake area was well used during the spring and summer, when the weather was warmer and a dip in the cool water was well appreciated, but during the winter months, it was nearly deserted. The water never seemed to freeze entirely over, probably hexed by Dumbledore in case any wiley students decided to test the ice and accidentally plunge to their frozen deaths. The water was black, dark and riotous as it swayed back in forth from the wind. It was so opaque, it was impossible to see through it and Draco began to imagine what it was like sinking to the bottom, how long it would really take. The entire landscape looked frozen in place, dead and morose and black. 

"W-what are we doing here?" Malfoy shivered, his blue parka suddenly not enough to keep away the cold front coming from the water. Harry seemed warm enough in his Gryffindor uniform, didn't feel the need to dress up for such an occasion. 

With a push of his heel off the boulder, Harry began walking away from the boy.   
"Have you ever been inside the school when no one was there?" Harry said from his shoulder, walking towards the entrance of the giant manor. 

"The school is n-never empty, you idiot! There is always some kind of teacher or prefect or-"

"Not when it's an excursion day." Harry smirked, grabbing Draco's hand and running, dragging the boy towards the school. "It's empty, I assure you. And if not, we can just get my father's cloak again." 

Draco bit his bottom lip and followed Harry inside the school, which was now more or less silent except for the occasional mutterings of a painting or ghost. He doesn't know why he's so blindly following the brunette, it's not like they were friends now. It's not like one night would change anything. But hey, now that he's here, might as well see what the fuss was about that made Potter apparate them all the way here. They finally stopped in front of the Gryffindor Commons room entrance once more. This time, the Fat Lady was lounging against her chaise, feeding herself grapes and other fruits. She was startled to see the two students, her body jolting up from his position quite animatedly. 

"What are you two doing here?? And why is he back??" 

"Yeah yeah, let us in alright?" Harry rolled his eyes. Draco was slightly amused by the annoyance etched into the boy's face. Only 15 and already harboring much frustration. Not good for wrinkles, Draco's mother would tut. 

"You know the rules! No Slytherins or any other house in the Gryffindor Common Room!" She roared, this time, less inclined to keep quiet in case she roused the attention of any faculty. 

"You've already seen him before! It's the same boy. Come on, just let us in alread-"

Draco stepped closer which made Harry's mouth close shut abruptly. Draco looked up at the painting with a charming smile and his eyes like a doe. Even Harry was stuck staring at him. "Won't you let me in, once more? Please?" Draco begged, peering through darling eyelashes up at the Fat Lady. His pretty pink lips pouted and Harry found himself unable to look away. 

The Fat Lady began to whine, cracking under the look of Draco's charm. "Fine! Fine, but only because I can't resist against such a face, come on, go in!" Her door swung open and Draco smiled, tilting his head to thank her kindly and bowing his head, before following Harry inside.   
The Gryffindor Common Room looked different when it wasn't pitch black from the night and shrouded in moonlight. It was warm, burnt oranges, fiery reds, bright yellows. It was brimming with energy, Draco could feel, as he watched Harry rummaging around a cabinet next to the fireplace. 

Draco gingerly sat down on the couch; the couch that he once had sat down upon that fateful night. It felt odd doing this in the daytime, as if their entire routine was off. But Draco found he didn't mind, now that he could see Harry's face in full view. Harry Potter, now 15...maybe even 16 years old. His skin was a finely tanned color, going well with his emerald green eyes. Dark brown, wild hair that seemed to fall in all the right places, strong hands and a strong jaw. Draco hadn't realized he was openly gawking until Harry turned back around and let out a little chuckle. The sound snapped Draco out of his gaze and made his cheeks fluster. "H-how come we never go to the Slytherin Common Rooms??" He huffed in attempt to change the subject. 

"Sorry princess, but your dormitory isn't exactly the prime example of cozy comfy living," Harry said as he finally fished out the object he was looking for. In this regard, Draco could say Harry was right. Although the color combinations of greens and silvers were Draco's favorite, he preferred them in a lighter setting, much like his own bedroom back home. While his bedroom was airy and light and reminiscent of the Roccoco French period, the Slytherin Common Rooms were simply dour, old and macabre. 

"How did you do that thing…. Convince the Fat Lady…" Harry asked as he ventured back to the couch, metal container in hand. He sat down next to Draco, a few feet apart. 

"Oh? That? Well, I learned it quite young as a way to convince my father of pretty much… anything?" Draco smirked sheepishly, hands coming down to undo his parka and place it next to him. The warmth of the fireplace was making him overheat in his new downy coat. 

"Always a daddy's boy, hm?" Harry began unscrewing the container opening and Draco finally understood that it was a flask that Harry had pulled out from the drawer. He watched as the boy brought the flask to his lips and tossed his head back. Draco's eyes followed the sharp lines of Harry's extended neck, the bobbing of his adam's apple, the way liquid began dripping down slowly. Harry pulled back and wiped his lips, noticing Draco's uneasy staring. "Too much for you, princess?" 

"Hm? Oh! No, n-no of course not! I was just wondering as to why you have that in the first place." 

Harry hummed in consideration, peering down at the shiny silver canister. "Hard to explain."

"I find myself rather good at keeping up, Potter." 

Harry's lips tweaked into a small smile, only to fall once again. "Remember when we talked last time...what we talked about?" Draco nodded. "Well...this kinda, I don't know, helps slightly? Makes the questions and the worries kinda dull for a few minutes." 

"Potter if you're trying to tell me you're an alcoholic-"

"I'm not a fucking alcoholic!" Harry exclaimed with a sort of frantic laugh, "I've barely even touched this thing. But during the winter… during Christmas time… I'm not so sure. It's difficult." 

Ah, of course. Harry must be missing his parents. Draco had always assumed that Harry would have gone with the Weasleys or gone with Hermione to their homes for the holidays, but perhaps he doesn't. Perhaps instead he just stows away here in the Commons, nursing a flask of what smelled like fire whiskey. It was a sad thought, really. The idea that Harry simply sat alone in front of the fireplace during Christmas, waiting for his friends to return. Draco always went home for the holidays, his family threw a huge Christmas gala each year and Draco always adored any chance to dress up and be admired. But Harry didn't have anything like that, he didn't even have parents to go home to. The sudden revelation made it easier to understand why Harry would have such a thing hidden away. 

Draco turned his head back to the boy in front of him, who knocked back another gulp of the liquid. "Do you want to try some?" Harry asked, holding out the flask. "It won't bite~" he teased as Draco shyly took the canister from him. 

"Of course I know that! I've drank before!" (If you counted the sips of wine and champagne his father and mother allowed him at dinner time). With a steely resolve, Draco braced himself and threw his head back, allowing a rush of bitter liquid to course down his throat. The fire whiskey made a hot way down to his stomach and sat there, warming it from the inside out. Draco pulled it away from his lips and grimaced, looking back at Potter who looked as if he were about to crack up in laughter. 

"That tastes like absolute shit," Draco muttered, passing it back to Harry. "If you're going to drink something, at least find something that tastes good." 

"Not all of us can afford delicious wines and french champagnes, princess." Harry rolled his eyes. "Perhaps that's your preferred Christmas beverage of choice?" 

Draco simply rolled his eyes in return and slouched against the couch, finding himself getting more and more comfortable on it. "When I'm older, I'm going to host a grand Christmas party at my house, just like my mother did. And I assure you, we will not be serving whatever poison is in that flask," Draco said smugly, smiling back at Harry who began to get as comfortable as he was. 

"Oh? And where will your husband be during all this?" Harry asked back, interested in playing along with this game of "future plans". 

"I'm not sure, probably shaking hands with important guests. Being a socialite and a proper gentleman." Draco drawled on.

"That sounds quite boring, in my opinion." Harry snorted.

"Well, it's quite a good thing you won't be my husband then." Draco mused, reaching out for the flask again and taking a smaller sip this time. He passed it back to Harry. 

"Let's pretend then." Harry shrugged. 

"What?" 

"Let's pretend I was your husband." 

Draco stared back at the boy as if he grew another head. "What are you talking about?" Draco felt his skin erupt in goosebumps and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up at the implication of Harry Potter being his husband, even if it was pretend. 

"Come on, just play along for a second. Don't be a fucking git." Harry whined, nudging against Draco's waist with his socked foot. 

"Fine! Fine, ok! I'll play along with your silly little game." Draco gasped out, grabbing the offending foot to make it stop jabbing at him. 

"Excellent. Alright, it's Christmas time. What would we be doing?" Harry asked as he screwed the flask shut and let it fall to his side onto the couch. 

"Well…" Draco sat up, "I would like to keep the Malfoy tradition of a Holiday party. With music and dancing and games and-"

"No, none of that. I hate grand parties, always feel like I don't fit in." Harry scrunched up his nose in distaste. "Pick something else." 

"Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't realize you were so invested in our pretend future home," Draco snorted, "Fine.. no party… maybe...maybe a family dinner instead?" Harry seemed to perk up at the idea, leaning closer to Draco, which made the boy blush slightly. "Yeah, a family dinner. A large roasted duck and maybe some potatoes and some carrots. Roast Beef and cakes for dessert." 

"Oh? And are you cooking all of this? Or shall we have a house elf do all the work so that we can save your precious manicure." Harry sneered, his eyes rolling at the thought of Draco doing any type of manual labor. 

"No, you idiot! I'm quite the capable cook, if you could believe it!" Draco huffed, crossing his arms angrily. "I'm not as prim and prissy as I come off as, you know. I would hope that you of all people could understand that." 

The silence between Harry and Draco was thick with tension, both of them simply staring at different things, avoiding each other's eyes. 

"I-I didn't mean it as a bad thing, ya know?" Harry muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I rather like that you're posh… it's...it's cute." 

Draco peered over at Harry shyly, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, like...you're a right daddy's boy but it's sweet...it suits you." 

Draco could see the red blood pooling in Harry's cheeks, his face and ears turning pinky. It made the blonde smile slightly, his eyes turning down at his lap as he takes a piece of his hair from his shoulder, playing with it and flicking it between his fingers. He couldn't bother to look at Harry knowing if he did, he'd probably wouldn't be able to contain his smile. 

"So, what else will be included in our future Christmas? Children running around?" Harry had a bit of a sheepish smile on his lips as he turned back to Draco. 

"Mm, perhaps two or three." Draco hummed, devilish smile aimed back at Harry. "If you get so lucky." Draco's eyes turned back towards the fireplace, memories of that first night together danced in the flickering flames. The silence between the two boys grew longer and longer until Harry sighed. 

"Seems like a nice life we'd have together." He muttered, sitting up and stretching his arms. He stood up from his spot and walked towards the coat closet. 

"I suppose we would," Draco cooed softly. He watched as Harry rummaged through the pockets of his coat, "But sadly, impossible. If my father has anything to do with it, he'd have me married off by the time I'm 18. My future husband will probably be old, and ugly, and balding, but devastatingly rich. And then we'll live a happy life together until he inevitably dies and I take all his money, not that I need it." Draco spoke in a deflated and sarcastic tone that made Harry chuckle sardonically. 

"Well I'm not old, fat, or balding, but I have a bit of money saved from my parents." Harry sat back down next to Draco. He held out his palm, showing a small object wrapped in brown paper and string. It was crudely done, but Draco couldn't help but be fascinated. 

"Is it...for me?" He asked softly, picking up the small object from Harry's hand. 

"I saw you looking at it in Hogsmeade. I thought it would make for a nice Christmas present." Harry blushed, averting his eyes as Draco began to undo the strings that tied the object together. Inside the paper glittered brightly in the sun, the moonstone hairclip that Draco saw in the window display. 

Draco's eyes widened at the sight of the clip, his heart swelling. It felt as if there were millions of butterflies in his stomach, all of them fluttering inside and making their way through his body. He felt as if he were about to burst into tears and yet he remained perfectly still. 

"You don't like it, do you?" Harry muttered sheepishly, "It's corny, I know but I thought it was pretty and I don't know it kinda matched your eyes and-"

"I love it." 

Harry turned back to him. "You do?" 

"Of course." Draco put the clip in his hair, the stones shining against the fine, silvery hair. "It's gorgeous. Thank you, Potter….Harry." 

Harry stared at Draco, long and hard. His eyes were soft as he roamed Draco's face, his hair, the clip that dazzled and reflected the sunlight coming through the windows. It was beautiful. Draco was beautiful. The staring made Draco blush, made him look down timidly. Harry took Draco's chin and tilted it up so they were face to face, eyes gazing deeply into each other. Their breaths were hot as they wafted over each other's faces. Practically panting as they leaned in closer to each other, mouths parting and inching towards each other. Harry's eyes moved up and down from Draco's lips to his eyes and back up-

"Hey! Harry, where did you go?!" Ron came barging in the common room, shopping bags in hand and Hermione not far behind him. Harry and Draco pulled apart as quickly as possible, their faces as bright red as the Gryffindor red. 

"What's he doing here?" Ron whined as he watched Draco stand up from his spot on the couch. 

"Oh I was just uh… leaving," Draco muttered as he sharply pushed between Hermione and Ron to get to the exit. 

"Wait, please, Draco come and stay with us for a bit," Hermione smiled shyly, trying to reach out to Draco. Her eyes caught the hair clip and gasped, "What a lovely clip! Where did you get it?" 

Draco's blush grew across his face and his eyes widened. "Ok, bye now." He muttered and quickly rushed out. The sight caused Ron and Hermione to both turn back to Harry, staring at him in a confused manner. 

"Care to explain what the Ice Queen was doing in our Common Room?" Ronald groaned, dropping the bags on the ground and plopping back down in Draco's now cold seat. The sight made Harry deflate and lay back, crossing his arms tiredly. 

"He was just getting some notes from me, no big deal." Harry muttered disinterestedly. 

"None of his cronies could give him the notes?" Ron asked as he rummaged through a bag of candy, kicking his legs up onto the small coffee table in front of them. 

"Whatever. Let's just drop it." Harry said as he got up and matched towards his bedroom. Hermione and Ron were left alone in the room, the sound of Harry's footsteps echoing through the room. 

"He's totally smitten, isn't he?" Hermione asked as she pulled out a lollipop from the bag. 

"Totally." Ron replied, shoving chocolates into his mouth.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is at home for the holidays, but he can't help but think of one certain brunette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry about the hiatus on this story. I promise I didn't abandon it! Chapter updates will be a bit sporadic but I don't want you guys to lose faith! Please comment if you liked this new chapter! Thank you!!

Christmas in the Malfoy house was always a lively event. Draco had woken up that morning to the sound of his mother's voice, shouting out different commands to the staff. The window glass was frosted over with the fresh snow that had fallen the night before, still soft and white and surreal. They were in their winter home in the french countryside, one that Draco had fond memories of as a child. Draco quickly shimmied out of bed and wrapped a fluffy blue robe around himself to cover his silky periwinkle nightgown slip. He strolled sleepily over to the window and gently put his fingertips against the glass, watching as the frost disappeared and the heat of his breath made a clear spot. A clattering sound of broken dishes from downstairs and a string of curses from his mother caused Draco to wake from his exhausted trance and walk to his dresser, grabbing his silver hairbrush. He meticulously combed equally as silvery locks, finally tying off a braid with a ribbon bow at the ends. Draco's eyes looked back at his reflection in his mirror. Even in the morning did he look like an absolute vixen. With a little twitch of his lips up into a smile, Draco hummed as he began to apply creams, serums, and small tubs of potions. Before finally standing up, Draco glanced over to the glittering hairpin on his dresser, next to the rest of his accessories. The sight of it reminded Draco of that day in the Commons and the memory of almost kissing Harry Potter made his cheeks burn up more than the winter chilly air did. Draco took the clip in his hand and quickly slid it into his hair, just near his ear. It sparkled when it caught the light of the early winter sun and shone bright white like the rest of the dazzling snow outside. Draco thought of the snow that surrounded The Lake near school, the one that Harry had taken him to. He pushed the memory to the back of his head and set off for breakfast.

He walked through the house as he watched the bustling of workers, Lizzie following nearby with the twinkling of her bell collar. House elves rushed back and forth around the manor to decorate each and every hallway and wall. Narcissa was busy delegating work and making decisions for their upcoming gala which they held every year. Usually, Draco buzzed at the thought of being adored by hundreds, but this year the party would leave a bittersweet film in his mouth as the thought of Harry sitting alone in the Hogwarts common room stayed in the back of his mind. 

"Good morning, Mother," he yawned as he sat down at the dining table, breakfast already being brought in front of him by one of their chefs. A plate of poached eggs, two slices of toast, and a cup of tea. Narcissa had always insisted Draco eat slimming and simple meals (The boy had a tendency to gain weight and it tended to go straight to his hips. While Narcissa called them "child-bearing hips", Draco called them "nuisances".) 

"Oh, good morning sweetheart," Narcissa smiled, only to go back to directing house elves on what food to prepare for the 7 course meal that would be served at their gala. She glanced over at her son, who was skimming through the daily newspaper as he sipped tea softly, creamy from the milk and slightly sweet from a sugar cube that had been sneaked in. "Draco, dear...where did you get that clip?" She asked and Draco's cheeks suddenly turned light baby pink. 

He cleared his throat softly and avoided eye contact. "A gift from a classmate," he said simply, eyes scanning the newspaper in his hands in an attempt to look anywhere but his mother. 

"Oh?" Narcissa smugly smirked. "Just...a classmate?" She asked and Draco hissed out a 'mother!', which made the older woman chuckle at the sight of her flustered little boy. "Well, it's rather fetching. Must have cost a pretty penny, about… 200 galleons?" 

"I'm not sure," Draco lied, shoving his toast into his mouth to avoid any more questions. "I have many admirers, don't you know." He added with a huff, his nose turned in true pompous Malfoy manor. 

"I don't suppose you should tell your father. The thought of his son with a harem of admirers may put a sour taste in his mouth. You're truly growing up too soon, Draco." Narcissa sighed as she placed flower arrangements around the room, each prettier than the last. Their conversation soon came to an abrupt end when they heard the clicking of riding boot heels against the marble floor.

"What are we not telling me?" Lucius strolled into the room, ever the lordly lion he was. He walked with the grace and poise that any distinguished gentleman would be expected to have. To others, Lucius came off as a fearsome and solemn man who was not to be trifled with. But for the likes of Draco, he was a kind and loving father. Once the accusations of being cronies with the Dark One had subsided, the Malfoy name was vindicated, if only to be rumored about in the back alleys and corners of different walks of life.

"Good morning, father." Draco smiled up at the man nervously, attempting to slyly take out the pin from his hair and tuck it safely into the pocket of his robe. Lucius walked over to his son and kissed his head in passing, then kissing his wife's cheek next. He took his seat at the head of the table, the patriarch of the Malfoy clan. His food was quickly placed in front of him and Lucius began to eat. 

"So what is it that is being kept secret from your old man, Draco?" He asked curiously, eyebrow raised as a servant poured his cup of tea out. Draco had never been able to lie effectively to his father, for those snake like eyes had always had a grip on it's beholder, but Draco had learned to soften the man with sweet words and pretty doe eyes.

"Oh nothing, father. I-I was just telling mother how I was going to wear the locket you gave me for my birthday to the party. And the dress I was given as well! It was going to be a surprise. You know how I do love to wear the things you get me~" Draco then turned to Narcissa expectantly, as if to motion for her to continue their little ruse. 

"Won't he look absolutely gorgeous, Lucius?" Narcissa smiled, attempting to keep up their little white lie. She sat down across from Draco, digging in to her own breakfast in front of her. 

This response seemed to please Lucius as he nodded and spread the table napkin across his lap, beginning to eat. "I assure you, anything my child wears will be gorgeous. Only the best for the Malfoy family." Both Narcissa and Draco let out little breaths of relief and continued on with their breakfast. 

\---

Days in Nice, France were idyllic and quaint and Draco found that he rather enjoyed the countryside life. It was only a few days until Christmas, only a few days until their grand celebration, and Draco found himself wondering about a certain brunette. What was Harry doing by now, Draco wondered. Draco stayed up in his bedroom, reaching out for his wand and charming a piece of parchment on his desk. He had planned to write a letter to Harry. He would like to hand deliver it himself, but Floor Powder was notorious for its rather shoddy results when traveling long distances. Once the paper was properly charmed, Draco began to speak into the tip of his wand. His words were then prettily transcribed onto the parchment. 

" _Hello Potter,_

_How are you? What have you been doing during this Christmas break? Currently, I am with my family in France and as much as I am enchanted by forests and brooks, I find myself missing human interaction other than my parents_. 

Draco hesitated before continuing, the ink on the parchment began to dry. His little pink tongue darted out to his cracked lips and he attempted not to be too embarrassed as he spoke the next part into existence. 

_I suppose I miss you, but in the way a child misses the stray dog that happens upon their porch night after night. Perhaps you and Lizzie would be sworn enemies. Wasn't your godfather's animagus a wolf? I think I heard that one day in the papers, when... I'm getting off topic. My family hosts a party every Christmas. I believe I told you this once in the Gryffindor Common Room, when you and I played a certain game of make-believe. Although I know you had a rather adverse reaction to it and would rather drink spoilt polyjuice potion than attend such an event, I wanted to ask...Christmas is in three days and the party is on Christmas Eve and if you're not too busy or if you're not at the Weasley Brood's house.. I was wondering...if you'd like to come to the party and stay until the day after Christmas_? 

The issue with dictation spells was that it wrote exactly what the user says and if Draco were to spend anytime reading back his letter, he may not even have the guts to send it. He doesn't know why he's asking, considering Harry was most likely at the Weasley house for Christmas and detests grand parties such as this. But maybe...just maybe… Draco gulped and pushed on. 

_Obviously you're not obligated to come. I suppose you wouldn't relish the thought of being surrounded by Slytherin alumni and formerly accused Death Eaters. Blaise and Pansy will be there as well though, I believe you met them briefly? But if you'd like to come, we have many rooms for you to stay in. I...would be happy if you could come… for the party._

_Yours truly,_

_Draconius Lucien Malfoy"_

Draco couldn't bear to look at the letter before he flicked his wrist and sent it off into the world through his open window. He hoped the letter would reach Harry soon and that he would receive some sort of response. He had asked his parents before if he could invite a companion to the party and if they could stay for Christmas, but perhaps they were expecting Thomas Knott or another well distinguished boy from Hogwarts, not Harry freaking Potter. He planned to keep that little detail a secret until the night of the party, where his parents would rather hold their tongues than make a spectacle in front of their peers. Sure, Draco would never hear the end of it by the time the party was over. But when was the last time he was in a situation that he couldn't puppy dog eyes his way out of? 

Draco waited anxiously the entire day, often staying close to windows and doors, for Harry's response. He sat on the windowsill with his book, flipping through the pages distractedly as he glanced back and forth between the glass and the words. By the time the sun had set and casted a bright orangey rosy glow on the land, Draco had decidedly given up on ever receiving a letter in return. Perhaps he misread their fragile friendship. Maybe Harry simply didn't like the thought of rubbing elbows with the people who conspired to bring down his family. It was understandable, after all. By dinner, Lucius and Narcissa had noticed their son's rather dour mood as he pushed his food around his plate. 

"Darling, are you alright?" Narcissa asked gently as she took a sip of her wine. 

"Yes, mother." Draco said dejectedly. He rested his cheek against his fist, looking down at his plate. 

"Draco, sit up at the table." Lucius firmly, but softly said and Draco righted himself. He continued to avoid eating, much to his parent's chagrin. But before dinner was over, he noticed the light tinny jingle of Lizzie's bell and from the corner of his eyes he saw her batting at the window. Perched on a tree branch outside was a beautiful white owl, peering inside the house. She had something in her beak, something that looked a lot like an envelope. The realization dawned on Draco suddenly and he couldn't help it as his lips curled into a smile. 

"I'm done!" He exclaimed hurriedly and pushed out his chair with a loud screech, watching as the owl took off from it's branch in one powerful swoop. 

"You've barely touched your food!" Narcissa whined as she watched her child pat down his mouth with his napkin.

"I'm not that hungry!" Draco smiled, "I am tired though, I think I'll go to bed. Goodnight!" He went over and kissed his mother and father, rushing upstairs to his bedroom. Lucius and Narcissa simply looked at each other in confusion, watching their child in such a hurry. 

Draco had gotten up to his bedroom when he noticed the tapping at his window, a little beak pecking and the scratching of talons. Lizzie followed closely and hopped onto the bed, watching with curious eyes as Draco opened his window. 

"Hello there~" Draco cooed as the owl dropped the letter into his hands. He set down the envelope on his night stand, smiling down at the bird. "What a beautiful girl you are," he smiled, stroking her feathers lightly. The owl cooed happily, yellow eyes closing slowly and extending her neck out so Draco can scratch her there. "Perhaps I should also get an owl, for long distance communication." Draco hummed. Lizzie meowed from the bed and Draco sighed. "No offense, Lizzie. But we both have to admit, you're a bit of a diva when it comes to things like snow and rain." 

The owl took off soon after and Draco plopped down onto his bed excitedly, pulling Lizzie up to his lap and petting her softly as he wiggled open the wax seal that kept the envelope shut. Lizzie made herself comfortable on Draco's lap, stretching out and yawning before finally laying down to sleep. 

_"Dear Draco,_

_I do hope Hedwig found the right address. After all, I don't exactly know France like you do. You're right though, the idea of spending an evening with Slytherins sounds as bad as pulling teeth. But I suppose I could grace you with my presence for the time being._

Draco rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the smile that grew on his face as he read. 

_An overnight stay at the Malfoy residence? Already planning for me to meet the in-laws are we? I suppose I should. I want our 2 to 3 kids to know their grandparents after all. But the real question is, what should I wear to such an event? I know anything I wear, you'll just find something better for me won't you, darling? Should I arrive by broom, or is that too gauche?_

_I'll see you then,_

_Harry."_

Draco's face burned at the words he read. Harry was teasing him, that was for sure. If anyone else were to read this letter, it would sound as if Harry was writing to his fiancé. He was keeping up their little game of House just to get a kick out of the blonde. He could practically see Harry's smug little face as he read the letter, hands creasing the paper at each side. But if Draco read the letter right, and he was sure he did since he read it over ten more times, this meant that Harry was going to come after all. Draco imagined what Harry would be like at a party like this. Probably awkward and reserved in a brooding and dashingly handsome sort of way. No doubt all the ladies and gentlemen of the room will want to try their chances at seducing him. But Draco's heart fluttered at the reminder that Harry was his companion for the evening, no one else's. He tucked the letter away in his dresser drawer and with a flick of the wand, he turned out the lights of his room. Sleeping that night would be a troubling thing for all he could think of was the party and what Harry would look like and how he should dress and what to say and what to do and how he would introduce Harry to others. He tossed and turned in his bed, unable to succumb to sleep. He most likely won't be able to until Harry arrives anyway. 

\---

By the time of the party, the Malfoy home was converted into a winter wonderland for the festivities of the night. Lucius had charmed the room to have a swirling display of snowflakes that never melted, one to delight his guests and dazzle them with their wealth and status. The manor was decorated in swaths of silvery garlands and lush green drapes, warm red fireplaces lit and flutes of glittering champagne were passed around the room. It was the event of the season and only the best of the best were invited to the Malfoy home. They had hired a string band to play lovely assortments of classical pieces as hors d'oeurves were brought out on beautifully crafted plates. 

Draco wore the velvet green dress his mother had given him for his birthday. It hugged each and every curve on his body like a dream, making him seen impossibly slender and ethereal as his hair practically glowed in the moonlight. He looked darling in it, he was a pretty little thing with his hair done in a half bun and half down style. The hairpin that Harry had given him was stuck proudly in his hair and Draco relished in seeing his particularly catty relatives absolutely squirming with jealousy at the sight of it. It was near the time guests would arrive and already were the first few scattering through the manor, taking in the sight with wide and awe-filled eyes. Draco took up a glass of champagne as he waited for Harry to arrive at the party. He stood anxiously near the wall, watching everyone from the corner with his drink in hand. 

"Well, well. Draco Malfoy. You look quite beautiful tonight, my dear." 

Draco turned his head when he heard his name and his entire body froze up as he saw the figure approach him. "O-oh. Mr. Greyback, how are you?" Draco asked with a polite smile, his hand moving to rub as his own arm, crossing them in front of his chest. Fenrir Greyback was an associate of the once powerful Dark Lord, as well as an old acquaintance of Draco's father. He had been invited to many Malfoy family dinners and Draco distinctly remembered the werewolf's beaty yellow eyes following his every movement. The way Greyback had watched Draco as if he were prey on the run had always caused goosebumps to raise on his skin. There were rumors of Greyback's less than polite behavior with his companions and he was often the center of crude stories. But from the first time Draco had met the werewolf, only 8 years old and holding Lucius's hand, Draco had known that the creature had certain insidious and lewd intentions when it came to him. 

"Well I'm quite fine now, aren't I?" He smirked and showed off yellowing mangled teeth, taking a sip of his whiskey. Draco had to stop himself from gagging at the sight of such disgusting fangs. "And are you alone tonight? Perhaps you could be my date for the time being," Fenrir purred, a dirty clawed finger coming up to brush a loose strand of hair from Draco's face. The boy recoiled at the sensation. 

"A-actually, I have a date for tonight. Also, my friends from school will arrive shortly," Draco said as he backed up from the man. His polite smile struggled to stay on his lips as he lied through his teeth.

"Oh?" Fenrir went one step closer as Draco took one step back. "And where is this date?" He asked with a sneer. 

"Well...uh, he's-" Draco stammered, his eyes darting around the room and also stepping back as he watched Fenrir coming closer and closer. 

"Oh, there you are, love. I have been looking for you all night." An arm slinked around the blonde's waist and pulled him tight against a strong and firm chest. Draco looked up and his pretty slate eyes widened at the miraculous sight of Harry who was hugging Draco tightly into his side as well as staring Fenrir down with sharp and piercing eyes. 

"Harry where have you-" Draco was cut off by Harry's hand gripping tighter around his waist to the point that Draco worried that Harry's fingerprints would bruise the soft and milky skin on his hip. A glaring contrast of a blackberry colored bruise against alabaster skin. Harry stuck out his free hand to hold in front of Fenrir. 

"Harry James Potter, how are you?" He asked with a smile that didn't meet his eyes. He ignored Draco's confused and surprised expression, simply continuing with steely resolve to stare the werewolf down.

Fenrir Greyback's eyes narrowed as he took Harry's hand in his and shook it firmly. "My name is Fenrir Greyback. I wasn't aware the Chosen One would be here of all places, especially escorting the son of a former Death Eater."

"Yes, well, I just couldn't resist this one, could I?" He asked and patted Draco's hip, rubbing slightly and trailing down his thigh which caused the blonde to gasp inwardly and grip Harry's arm harder. He knew Greyback was watching Harry's hand stroke Draco's skin with jealous determination and he knew that Harry knew he was watching as well. The arrogance and possessive display of ownership caused Greyback's pupils to shrink and caused a gruff clearing of his throat to exit his lips. Harry only continued, "Thank you so much for keeping him company while I was busy. I hope to talk to you more soon, now if you excuse us." Harry maneuvered them away from the man and down to the open veranda, where other couples were gathered to chat in private. When they finally found an empty corner, Harry let go of the boy and smiled. "Well, I leave you alone for two minutes and you sneak around with other men, do you?" He teased, leaning against the marble banisters. 

Once Draco had gotten a good look at Harry, he couldn't help but feel his legs turn to jelly and his heart thump like a rabbit. Harry was wearing a tuxedo that was perfectly tailored to his body. The shirt he wore perfectly highlighted the toned and firm crevices of his chest as well as the elegant slope down to his waist. His slacks were practically painted onto him with how perfect they looked on strong and long legs. Harry's caramel tan skin glowed warm in the candlelight that was scattered around the manor and the moonlight bounced off ebony black curls. His lightning shaped scar stood out as if a proud medal and Draco could imagine he purposefully put it on display, as if to give a warning to all the former Death Eaters. Draco felt his own cheeks heat up at the sight and it definitely wasn't from the champagne he had been drinking. "I'm not some trollop that fools around with men," Draco muttered, his cheeks turning even more pink than the rouge he was wearing. 

"No, of course not. You just skulk off with upperclassmen and snog them in the corridors of the school in the middle of the night." Harry shrugged, his smirk growing more and more to the point he looked like the Chesire Cat. 

"That was one time!" Draco whined, "Besides I didn't even know you came in! How did you-"

"Well, if you must know, the trip was quite long and tedious. I came in around 10 minutes ago, but I think I scared the valet when I flew in on BuckBeak. Next Christmas, darling, your parents are coming to us," Harry huffed as he stopped a servant with a tray of whiskey glasses filled with amber liquid. Harry took one sip and slightly cringed, only to down the rest of it. "Well that definitely tastes better than the stuff in my flask, but it still tastes like metal and rubbing alcohol. Who knew, fancy whiskey is just as shitty as regular cheap ones." 

Draco felt as if he were caught in a whirlwind as he watched Harry. The boy was so calm, so unbothered. He said things with such confidence it made Draco's head spin. Their inside joke rolled off of Harry's tongue as if it were truth and it made Draco's entire body tense and nervous. Did he truly feel this way? Was marriage in their cards? Was Draco meant to just accept an engagement at 15 years old without a formal proposal at all? Or was this a joke? A long-con that just adds to Harry Potter's repertoire of mentally fucking with Draco Malfoy. If Draco continued with this game of theirs longer, he can't help but feel that he truly was meant to be Harry's wife. If he one day came to realize that it was all fake, a joke that had gone on for too long and therefore lost its punchline, Draco doesn't know if he'd be able to take it. The way Harry touched Draco, so familiarly; as if Harry's hand had belonged on Draco's skin. It made Draco… it made him…

"We should have a turn about the room, shouldn't we? Make sure everyone sees us in all our glory?" Harry asked as he took up Draco's waist once more. Draco blushed deeply and the warmth of Harry's hand on his hip travelled up his spine like waves of electricity. 

"Y-yes, of course." Draco stammered, remembering proper pureblood manners. He straightened his back and finished the rest of his champagne, leaving the glass on the banister. "Come now, it's only proper that we introduce ourselves to every guest here. Being the host and the host's date and all." 

"Lovely, sounds like an absolutely dreadful time," Harry sarcastically cheered. Draco giggled and Harry smirked down at him, "No worries. The night is young and there is plenty of mischief to get up to, princess." 


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings revealed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Please comment if you liked this new chapter and if you'd like to perhaps see more of this story with Harry and Draco grown up? Married life? Children? Anyways, thank you! :)

Seeing Harry James Potter surrounded by ex-death eaters felt like somewhat of a fever dream, Draco thought as he brought his flute of champagne up to his lips. The Golden Boy of Hogwarts looked out of place in the Malfoy Manor, simply too shiny for the rest of the denizens of the dark corners of England. And while Harry remained a perfectly polite guest, Draco could tell that being surrounded by his supposedly familial sworn enemies was taking a toll on him. Every so often, Draco would catch the boy rubbing his forehead, along his infamous lightning bolt scar. It was a permanent reminder that Harry would always be different than Draco and his family. Different then all the Slytherin alumni and Pureblood heirs. But Draco was flattered nonetheless by the way that Harry would snake his arm around Draco's waist and rest his hand on his hip. The way Harry laughed along with well-known criminals and rubbed shoulders with once Dark Lord cronies. He's discussed it with Harry before, how he didn't mind Draco's family's lineage. How he was only one years old when his parents had disposed of the scourge that was Voldemort. How Harry was not the grand chosen one that everyone had thought he was. Draco didn't know if he really believed him.

Currently, Draco was trying to hide his embarrassment as his great uncle ranted to Harry and him about how the Dark Lord was going to return once more and those who have betrayed him would once again feel his wrath. Harry simply nodded and smiled nervously while Draco tried his best to hide his pink cheeks. It was only natural that some rather devoted followers of the Dark Lord would remain, even 15 years after Voldemort's supposed death. Draco bit his tongue in order to not burst out in anger at his drunken family member, but he's heard this speech before. Ever since he was a child, Draco had been hearing the rumbles and rambling of Voldemort sympathizers. He's had them at his dinner table as guests, friends of his parents back when they were part of the clan. And Draco isn't foolish enough to not know that his parents weren't loyal supporters of the cause at one point. But how does one simply say no to the Dark Lord when everything they have is at stake. But now, Draco can see how they hide their Dark Marks in shame. How his mother covers it with the thickest tinctures and potions she can find and how his father rarely wears anything but long sleeved robes. 

Draco's Great Uncle turned towards a passing waiter in order to refill his emptied cup of wine, which allowed Harry to quickly snag Draco by the arm and yank him away, causing the blonde to giggle as the two of them ran off like school children. The brunette brought them over to a secluded corner of the ballroom. With Draco leaning against the wall and Harry draped over him, it was difficult to distinguish who they were to prying eyes. The warmth of the room from the roaring fireplaces made Draco's body tingle and their breaths came out in pants. Harry's lips curled sweetly into a teasing smile which made Draco's skin prickle into goosebumps. It reminded him of that one winter night, the night when they first snuck into the Gryffindor Common Room and the first time they truly looked into each other's eyes. Harry peered down at the blonde in his arms, his smile wide and eyes squinted happily as he brought a hand up to brush back a loose strand of hair from Draco's cheek. Draco bit his lip and slightly curled into Harry's touch.

"I'm sorry for my uncle, he's quite the drunkard," Draco muttered sheepishly as Harry's hands trailed down towards Draco's hips, rubbing lightly at the fabric of his dress with rough thumbs. 

"Don't worry about me, princess. I don't scare easily," Harry teased as he pulled Draco closer, their chests nearly touching. The blonde smiled shyly, his eyes casting down as he softly pushed Harry's chest away. 

"Play nice, Potter. My family is around, remember?" Draco purred back, slipping out from Harry's grasp. The brunette watched as the snowy-haired boy sauntered off, his hips swaying enticingly and Harry couldn't help but follow. He would follow Draco to the ends of the earth if it meant he could stay with him. Even if that meant enduring his family members and acquaintances. They all seemed to be amazed at the sight of him, gawking openly and whispering behind their glasses as they watched the Malfoy heir being escorted by the Boy Who Lived. Harry had enjoyed making them squirm in discomfort whenever he would pull Draco into his embrace. It was as if Harry was attempting to display a warning: 'this one is mine'. It was something worth repeating, he's found, since it seems that Draco is quite the eligible bachelor in Pureblood society. All night, Harry was forced to listen to either the forlorn longings of past Voldemort supporters or the constant badgering of men who attempt to steal Draco away, if only for a drink or a dance. While Harry would like nothing more than to lock Draco away from public view, he knew he would have to play the polite guest. Therefore, he allowed Draco to go and do his obligatory socializing considering he was the host of the party after all. 

It was a small reward though, Harry thought, as he watched Draco flutter back and forth between conversations. He's a gifted little host, the way he dazzles and lights up whenever he talks to someone new. It was all very endearing to Harry, who chose instead to stick to the walls until his date had returned. No bother, he mused, sipping from his flute of champagne. Perhaps one day, Draco will play host at one of their own dinner parties. 

"He's glorious isn't he?" 

Harry's bubble was burst by the looming presence in his peripheral vision. Rodolphus Lestrange, to Harry's knowledge, was a dour and serious man. Or at least, that's what Draco had told him upon arriving at the party. His wife, Bellatrix, was a curious woman who Harry had the pleasure (or perhaps, misfortune) to meet sometime after coming to the Malfoy Manor. Draco had called her "Auntie Bella", a woman who was loud, crude, and near-jovial in her madness as she swung her glass around while talking and spilled it's contents onto the ground in a passionate frenzy. Her husband though is nothing short of macabre. While Harry rather doubts that all these people are actually related to the Malfoys, he supposed it's the ' Death Eater family' that Draco was referring to.

"Yeah, he's… beautiful," Harry murdered back, eyes never leaving the blonde vixen that lit up the room like a ball of lightning. 

"He always has been beautiful. We had always known he'd be. Even the Dark Lord had known." Rodolphus smirked, leaning in closer to Harry as if they were pals exchanging secrets. 

Harry could feel the dark and inky tendrils of annoyance climbing up his bones. He liked Draco. More than liked actually, was rather smitten with him. But that wasn't enough for Harry to forget that these people, Draco's 'family' had been responsible for Harry's parents' deaths. They had wanted it, implored their master to kill the only family Harry had ever had himself. And yes, Harry hadn't known his parents really. He knows he feels no real connection to them, but they were HIS parents. They were HIS family. The longer he ruminated on the thought, the more bitterly he felt towards the man that had slithered up next to him. But Rodolphus took Harry's silence as interest, and thus continued. 

"When little Draco was born, the Dark Lord was elated. He had been blessed by his Excellency upon his birth. Rumor had it that he was to be the chosen one, the bride for our master." 

Harry swallowed down his anger, leaving veins in his neck to bulge and his scar to burn. Harry had wanted nothing more than to hex the man next to him; to curse him with all that he has. How could he dare to let such filth spew out from his mouth? And how dare he tell it to Harry, himself. The boy who had come to play victim to Voldemort, the boy whose parents had fallen to him and the boy who had always pined for the Malfoy child from the moment he had first seen him. It was as if Rodolphus was especially trying to get a rise out of him. As if to show the Malfoys, to show Draco, that Harry didn't belong in this world. But it wasn't as if Harry thought Draco belonged here either. The blonde wasn't anything like any of his supposed family members. If Harry had his way, he'd tell all these people to fuck off and take Draco home with him, back to the Burrow. Ron would surely have a fit and Draco would probably hiss like a scorned kitten, but at least he'd be somewhere that was devoid of miscreants such as these. 

"Perhaps when the Dark Lord returns, he'll come back to claim his bride," Rodolphus mused tenderly, arms crossed at his sides and humming in delight. 

"Yeah, well, it's a good thing that my parents fucking died to ensure that bloody Voldemort will remain just a pile of dust," Harry growled under his breath, attempting to keep his calm and cool. 

Rodolphus grit his teeth together, face contorting into something inhumane. "Why you little-"

"I do believe that Mr. Nott is searching for you, Rodolphus." And there was Professor Severus Snape. With his pale white and spindly fingers, he was grasping Rodolphus's shoulder in a tight hold. Rodolphus growled a sound of displeasure as he shot his final dirty glare towards Harry before leaving entirely. Harry had never been fond of Snape, considering he was less than kind to him at school. They held a disregard for each other during school hours, while attempting to avoid each other as much as possible all other times. But for right now, Harry wanted to thank Snape and whatever else higher power there was that caused Rodolphus to leave him alone. 

"You'd be advised," Snape began in his usual rolling drawl, "To avoid anyone of the Lestrange family, Potter." 

"He came up to me, I couldn't shake him off." Harry muttered back, standing now rigidly next to Snape. 

"It's unfortunate to say that many are still following the once Dark Lord with unmoving loyalty," the man did not speak towards Harry, but instead next to him, into the crowd of people. Their eyes never met, instead both taking in the sight of the festivities before them. "But I can assure, that many previous followers are now very much removed from the cause." 

"And were you one of his followers, Professor?" Harry asked bitterly, adjusting his slipping glasses. Snape remained silent next to him, a stoic statue in all black robes. 

"Unfortunately." The professor bellowed, his tone slightly annoyed. 

Harry could believe that perhaps some were indoctrinated into the Dark Lord's army against their will. He wouldn't put it past Voldemort to do so, considering the monster was the reason Harry was orphaned at the tender age of one. And perhaps this is why Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were deeply shameful of their Dark Marks. Something that they had never wanted in the first place. 

"I'll warn you now, Potter. Draco Malfoy is the closest thing I have akin to a son," Snape muttered candidly, his honest tone causing Harry to snap his neck towards the man and stare. "If I find that he has been….hurt in any way. I will not even put up a fight as I am removed from Hogwarts when they find your petrified body outside in the courtyard." 

Harry believed every word that dripped out of Snape's mouth, feeling them wrap around his body and cause chills to erupt around him. "I promise, I fully intend to court Draco properly until we are old enough to marry." 

"I hope you keep your word, Potter. Lucius shall not be as kind as I would to simply petrify you." Harry could see the smallest semblance of a smirk beginning to curl on the corner of Snape's lips. 

Before Harry could respond, Draco came strolling back towards them, gasping with delight as he saw Severus. "Uncle!" He smiled sweetly, hugging the man. Snape's stoic resolve broke slightly at the sight of Draco, allowing the boy to wrap himself around the man's chest. Snape did the same and patted Draco's back fondly, smiling ever so slightly. Harry didn't know Snape was even capable of such a facial expression. It was unusual on such a stoic face and Harry supposed he's one of the few select people who will ever be able to see such an expression ever again. But upon noticing Harry staring quite amusingly at them, Severus stiffened his back and gently nudged Draco back. 

"Merry Christmas, Malfoy." He muttered in usual unamused drawl.

"Uncle you don't have to for Harry's sake-" Draco laughed, but the man had already disappeared in a swath of black fabric, making a beeline back to the alcohol bar. Draco sighed and shook his head, "That's Uncle Severus for you, more repressed and tight than a knot." He turned up to Harry, snaking his arms into the brunette's. "Now come on, let's slip out for a bit." Harry was then whisked away from the crowd, away from the golden yellow candle lights that illuminated the rest of the Malfoy home and into the dark and cold hallways nearby. 

He clutched onto Draco's hand and relished in its warmth as they climbed up the winding staircases towards the second floor, into the darkness and away from the joyous noise. Soon, the two found themselves alone and in silence, rows of doors lined the walls and Draco smiled back at Harry so brightly it seemed to be the only light source nearby. He was led to the last door at the end of the hall, a grand white double door with golden knobs. A swish of Draco's pretty hand and suddenly the door unlocked and opened, the blond walking confidently through them. "Welcome to Chez Draco," he giggled, another swish of the fingers and the lights turned on to a beautiful warm glow. Draco's room was exactly what Harry would have imagined it to be: white, grand, and princessy. The bed had a lace canopy shrouding it with a matching white dresser to the side, a plush couch and coffee table in the middle, and a grand balcony that led to an open veranda. Truly a bedroom fit for the blonde. Harry walked around the room in curiosity, taking every little detail in, wiping his fingertips across each piece. 

"Do you like it?" Draco blushed, rocking on his toes and heels as he watched the brunette wander. 

"Well, it's quite…" Harry began, "It's quite you, Draco," Harry laughed, sitting down on the couch and spreading out his legs, taking up as much space as possible. 

"Daddy said that you could sleep in any of the guest rooms," Draco added, gently sitting on the edge of his bed.

"How did you convince him to let me stay?" Harry asked, picking up and observing the knick knacks and toys that littered Draco's room.

"Well," Draco rubbed his neck sheepishly, "I may have thrown a particularly annoying tantrum until he became exhausted enough to say yes." 

Harry tsked, shaking his head. "Already hated by the father-in-law, aren't I?" He teased, peering up at Draco to see him hide his face in embarrassment. Draco remained quiet afterwards, no quip back, no smarmy smile. Harry's eyebrows furrowed, smile turning to a sharp straight line as he watched Draco avoid his gaze. "Draco?" He muttered, his legs coming together and sitting up and leaning in. "Dr-"

"Do you mean that?" The blonde blurted out, too embarrassed to look at the boy. 

Harry blinked once, twice, "Do I mean what?" 

"Do you mean it?!" Draco snapped, snapping his head quickly towards Harry. "Do you mean it when you say these things about- about…" 

"About Marriage?"

Draco's pale white cheeks turned pink as he nodded and averted his gaze, "I don't know if you're just fooling around or if you're serious but marriage is a really big deal in the Malfoy family and I don't even know if my parents would let me marry you I mean you're not affiliated with the family and I don't want to waste my time with someone who isn't serious and you just say it all the time and-" Draco's rambling was cut off when he noticed Harry had crossed the floor towards him. He took the blonde's hands in his, then lifting his chin up to stare into his own green hazel eyes. Draco bit his bottom lip, wanting to look away, but knowing he should stare straight on. 

"Of course I'm serious, Draco," Harry muttered, stroking the back of Draco's hands in his own. "Draco I…..I really am…." The words were stuck in his throat, "I really.." 

"Yes?" Draco asked, eyes wide and full of hope that made Harry's words feel even more heavy in his mouth. 

"I...I really do love you, Draco." Harry wheezed out, his cheeks aflame and his palms suddenly sweaty. But Draco didn't seem to mind as he jumped up into Harry's arms, squealing and hugging the boy. Harry clumsily grabbed Draco's waist to ensure the boy didn't fall, laughing nervously as Draco began to litter kisses across his cheek, jaw, and neck. 

"You do? You really do?" Draco whined between kisses. 

"Y-yeah you poof!" Harry scoffed. "Of course I do!" He said with renewed vigor, attempting to stay steady for the both of them. "I have since I first saw your bratty ass in the bookstore," he laughed. He had to admit it felt nice to have his pretty Draco dangling on him like this, finally able to hold him how he wanted, touch him as he pleased. Harry's hands wrapped tighter around Draco's waist. 

"Harry! You're such an idiot. Why did you wait so long to tell me??" Draco whined as he buried his face into the brunette's neck. Harry simply nodded and pet the blonde's hair back. 

"Yeah… I am an idiot," Harry sighed, allowing Draco to further dig into his chest. He closed his eyes, attempting to stay in the moment. "We'll get married at 18, have kids at 20. We could live in Grimmauld Place, I inherited it from my Uncle..or-or we could live here. Or anywhere you want, Draco." Harry mused, reveling in the soft humming against his neck. "You'll be mine...and-and I'll be yours." 

They stood entwined for many moments, their heartbeats finally steadying. After a few moments, Draco finally began to loosen his grip. "Come on," he sniffled, wiping a rogue tear from his cheek. "My parents will have a fit if they realize we've been up here so long." 

They walked to the door together, standing closer than ever, hands barely brushing as they passed the door. "Perhaps one day you can throw your own fit for our children when they invite their lovers up to their rooms," Harry teased, which made Draco roll his eyes and stifle a wet chuckle. 

"Planning to knock me up so soon, Potter?" Draco scoffed, "How charming," he drawled, rolling his eyes in the bratty manner that Harry loved so much. 

"You're right," Harry shrugged, taking Draco's hand in his as they walked down the stairs, "Children can wait, but maybe we could run away together, get married now. There are some places that do that you know? We could elope." 

"You'd have me be a child bride!?" Draco whined, his fingers gripping Harry's even tighter as they began to see the glowing lights of the party and the sounds of music once again flow. "And no, no no no! I will not elope like it's some shitty shotgun wedding." Draco and Harry began to see the guests once more. "We'll have a beautiful wedding. Nearly 300 guests. And it'll be here maybe, so my mother can plan it!" Draco smiled, and Harry was lost in his crystal eyes. He didn't even notice the guests around them, Death Eaters and criminals alike. Who cared anymore, the darkness that seeped into the room from the guests. Not when he had the most dazzling thing in his own hands. 

"Harry, my parents want us to take photos!" Draco smiled back at him. 

Harry smiled back, "Coming, darling."


End file.
